


Run, Run, Little, Rabbit, Run

by Seajellybaby



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Angst, Crime Fighting, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Politics, Soap Opera, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 93,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seajellybaby/pseuds/Seajellybaby
Summary: Luke Snyder and Noah Mayer have been on the run from the law for almost 10 years. Living under assumed names, perpetually scared of discovery and utterly exhausted, they’ve managed to lull themselves into a false sense of security. It’s been at least four years since they’ve had to move and for a while they’ve been able to provide their 12-year-old son, Leo, with some semblance of stability. But when Luke becomes accidentally embroiled in another legal case, they know the game is up, and the chase is once again on…The question is, do they keep running or do they finally stop and fight?Author’s Notes:Nuke History rewrite from when Winston Mayer walks in on their kiss.Written for the Nuke Big Bang 2012
Relationships: Noah Mayer/Luke Snyder
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Nuke Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Arlington, Texas, En Route, 2019**

Arlington may have been one of the smaller cities in Texas, but it was no less immune to the usual morning and afternoon rush hours. Luke Sutherland drummed his fingers up and down the steering wheel of his 1967 Ford Mustang GT, getting more and more anxious with each passing minute the wheels weren't in motion. He stared miserably at the dusty rear of a Chevrolet pickup a yard ahead, smirking at the irony of the Eat My Dust bumper sticker staring back at him.  
  
Usually by this time, Luke would already be at his desk; having missed the rush hour altogether. But this hadn't been a typical weekday morning.  
  
" _Mr. Sutherland, you may think your son's actions are amusing but I can assure you, this is a very serious issue."_  
  
As far as Luke could tell, his son's tired looking principal, Mr Brite, was an idiot. The man did nothing to counter the bulling in his school; and then reprimanded the kids who were only trying to stick up for themselves. As Luke mused this over, the vehicles up ahead began a slow creep forward, which was still frustrating but definitely better than not moving at all.  
  
It also happened to be one of those overly hot and sticky days Texas was famous for; steam rising up off the asphalt, highlighting the car fumes; grating on already overwrought nerves.  
  
 _I'd kill for air-conditioning!_  
  
The heat, in turn, caused a few irate drivers to lose their heads entirely and fruitlessly beep at their horns.  
  
 _You can beep all you want, buddy! It's not gonna magically remove the 300 cars ahead of us!_  
  
Luke couldn't afford to be late to work. His boss, Don Lair, was an old, grumpy, mean son of a bitch with zero patience for tardiness. Hell, the week before he'd fired poor little Liam Hamworth for accidentally dropping a pane of glass.  
  
But as the clock ticked past 9, Luke decided stressing was pointless. He was already late anyway. Besides, he was pretty sure his popularity with the customers would be enough to give Don second thoughts about canning him. At least this is what saved Luke two years ago, when Don first discovered Luke's wife was actually Luke's husband. Luke still shivered when he recalled the screaming and threats the red faced Don made to him _that_ day.  
  
But, it seemed Luke's worth as manager to Don was greater than the man's personal issues regarding homosexuality and, since Luke needed the job, both men fell quietly within the bounds of an unspoken agreement to look the other way as far as this issue was concerned. They definitely never spoke about it.  
  
Luke dreaded to think how Don would react if he knew the _whole_ truth.  
  
And lately Luke had even less reason to worry.  
  
A letter recently arrived that had the old man smiling. It was personally handwritten by Tarrant County District Attorney Thomas Martinelli, who praised Luke and his team of mechanics for the excellent and speedy service in repairing his accident-damaged BMW.  
  
"My wife, Sarah, almost lost her life in that car and Mr Sutherland handled my situation with much compassion," Martinelli wrote.  
  
And that wasn't all. Since Luke took over as manager three years previously, the business was more organized. Customers flooded in, knowing they would get fair and fast service.  
  
It wasn't just the customers, who were fond of Luke either. He had the absolute loyalty of the team he'd carefully selected over the years. And Luke made sure to remind Don that the letter was as much a compliment to the men who worked for him, as it was to Luke.  
  
With this thought giving him courage, Luke sighed in relief as he finally pulled up in his usual hidden parking space behind the service department.  
  
"Relax," Rose Cohen placated from the reception desk as Luke entered the front office, eyes scanning for Don. With the phone pressed to her ear, she shuffled papers around and periodically entered numbers, two-fingered, into the computer. "He's at the dentist."  
  
Rose was about as old as the garage itself; coming up to her 40-year service award. She was overweight (bordering on obese), crinkled like a tossed potato chip bag; and she spoke in a gravelly voice that betrayed her three-pack-a-day smoking habit. She also had one hell of a temper if you caught her on an off-day, and there wasn't one person working at Leyton's Motors who would ever dare to cross her.  
  
Honestly, Rose was the one running the place and most likely would be manager if it weren't for Don's archaic disregard for the intelligence of the fairer sex. If Luke had a question, he could always depend on Rose for the answer. For this reason, he treated her with the utmost respect.  
  
"Sorry I'm late," he apologized. "Leo got into a fight at school yesterday and I had to go in to speak to the principal."  
  
"The gay thing again?" she asked; huffing her disapproval of bigots.  
  
"Nope. Actually this time it was the trailer park thing. Some kid made the mistake of teasing him in front of the class. So Leo punched him out flat."  
  
"Well good for him!" she declared, pumping a fist in the air.  
  
He grinned with pride and waved at her as he entered the busy repair shop, stepping over bits of car engine and paneling, greeting his team of seven mechanics along the way.  
  
Luke knew he shouldn't encourage Leo's behavior; and externally he berated his son for it, grounding the boy for two weeks. But internally he was glad the kid never let the bullies win. Really, he wished he'd been more like Leo at that age.  
  
He hummed along to the radio blaring through the workshop; grabbed a coffee from the small storage room that doubled as a staff canteen. and finally reached his desk.  
  
He hadn't even taken a sip when a glint of sunlight on metal; a sharp movement, drew his attention to the window. At least a dozen men were gathering outside from all directions and…  
  
… at least one of them had a gun!  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
Luke didn't even stop to think. As he heard the commotion hit the workshop; a scream of shock from Rose, it was a natural response to open his desk drawer and go for his hidden Glock 22.  
  
But it was a mistake.  
  
His office door burst open; rifle butts smashed the glass window. He was horrified to find himself face to face with three heavily armed men; dressed all in black and bedecked in body armor.  
  
"FBI! Do not move!"  
  
The barrel of the closest rifle trained on Luke looked enormous from Luke's point of view. He trembled in terror.  
  
"Slowly place the gun on the floor; and move away from the desk!"  
  
Luke swallowed. He didn't even remember raising his arms, but his handgun was pointing up at the ceiling.  
  
 _This is it! I'm going to die._  
  
The first gunmen to enter the room surrounded the desk to allow a few more inside. Luke felt like a hunted deer cornered in a dark forest, heart racing faster than the wind.  
  
"Put it down!"  
  
The command was so loud it startled Luke. He jumped, making all the rifles trained on him rattle metalically as the arms holding them lifted nervously.  
  
"Down! Now!"  
  
Luke was terrified any movement of his gun-toting hand would spook one or more of the agents in the room. His stomach tied itself into a tumble of knots; drops of sweat ran in sheets down his brow, stinging his eyes.  
  
"I'm scared," he whispered.  
  
"Everything will be okay if you just lower the weapon. Slowly place the weapon on the desk and step away."  
  
Luke nodded; followed these instructions, relieved once the gun left his fingers.  
  
 _How did they find us?_  
  
He lifted his arms wide; stepped shakily from behind the desk. The instant he cleared the vicinity of his gun he was thrown flat and painfully to the floor; the wind knocked out of him. He coughed madly; groaned as his arms were twisted behind his back. He felt that inevitable pain of metal cuffs clasping shut.  
  
 _We've been so careful._  
  
His mind reeled as he tried to understand where they'd gone wrong.  
  
A pair of military-issue boots appeared in his restricted line of vision, such as it was with one cheek pressed against the carpet.  
  
"Luke Sutherland?"  
  
He stretched his neck at a strange angle as to look up at the person who spoke.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You the manager?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'm FBI Special Agent Adrian Williams."  
  
The man stooped down to show his badge, but Luke's mind was too busy trying to formulate a plan of escape to see it properly.   
  
"We've had reports of illegal activity. We have a warrant to search these premises."  
  
 _Wait, what? What the fuck?_  
  
"You are under arrest for threatening federal officers in the line of duty."  
  
Something was off.  
  
"Can I sit up?" Luke asked in his most non-hostile voice. His neck was throbbing painfully from trying to look up at Agent Williams.  
  
Two men pulled him up by his elbows; threw him unceremoniously into his office chair.  
  
There were people everywhere. Luke saw a mix of both FBI and DEA jackets passing by the door. He could hear loud shouts; questions being asked of his men; things crashing and banging inside the warehouse; Rose complaining indignantly of the mess they were making.  
  
 _They're not here for me…_  
  
He took a chance, "What exactly are you looking for?"  
  
Rose was escorted into his office just as Agent Williams answered, "This is a drug raid."  
  
"A what?" she exclaimed, hands coming up to her wrinkled face in shock, "Drugs? Here? It's not possible! You tell them Luke! It's just not possible!"  
  
"If this is just a drug raid then… why are the FBI involved?" Luke asked.  
  
"This drug cell is believed to be connected to a couple of cross-state homicides currently under FBI investigation."  
  
"And you think I'm involved in drugs…" Luke wasn't really asking a question, rather trying to make sense of the situation for himself; hopefully find a way out of it. It seemed things were not as bad as he first thought.  
  
" _Are_ you?" Williams lowered his lids at Luke. "Because according to our surveillance, at least half your workforce is."  
  
 _Shit! So much for being loyal!_  
  
"Involved how?" Luke asked.  
  
"Selling and using."  
  
Luke's brain throbbed incessantly as it worked overtime.  
  
"Well…" he tried, "I can assure you I have _nothing_ to do with it."  
  
"It's true!" Rose insisted. "Luke is a good boy!"  
  
Luke wanted to kiss her.  
  
"Is that right," Williams smugly asked, "a good boy who just tried to shoot at federal agents?"  
  
"Oh come on!" Luke complained. "I had no _idea_ who you guys were! You just busted in here with guns. It was a natural reaction, I swear!"  
  
Williams chewed on his inner cheek as he considered Luke's self-defense story.  
  
"We identified ourselves," he finally said.  
  
"Only after I pulled the gun…" Luke countered.  
  
"Mm," Williams looked slightly less convinced. "Still. I'd rather you stayed put while we undertake our search. Don't move!"  
  
 _As if I could!_  
  
As Luke sat amidst the noise of the ongoing investigation, he shook his head.  
  
 _What rotten luck!_  
  
He fought the tears that threatened to fall. Were they really stupid to think they could ever leave the past behind them?  
  
Tiny pinpricks at the tips of his fingers were the only external indication of the terror eating him up from the inside. But the fear wasn't for himself. As far as Luke cared, his life was expendable so long as his family were safe.  
  
The FBI had yet to work out exactly _who_ it was they had sitting handcuffed to a chair in the office of a vehicle repair garage. But it was only a matter of time. All they had to do was run a few fingerprints through the National Law Enforcement Registry; and the game was up.  
  
He grappled with a million ways to try and warn Noah; wondered how they'd ever explain themselves to Leo.  
  
 _God, Leo!_  
  
"Rose," he asked the trembling women in the chair across his office, "could you please call Noah?"  
  
She shook her head, "They took my cell. And the phone lines were cut."  
  
 _Dammit!_  
  
Luke closed his eyes against the pain of all they had to lose.  
  
 _We really thought we'd made it._  
  
He was older than the boy in the pictures on the FBI's 10 Most Wanted List; longer hair a shade darker, stubble from his rushed morning. At the moment, it was the only reason they hadn't recognized him.  
  
But that was simply a matter of time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Arlington, Texas, Bettie Page Clothing Emporium, 2019**  
  
A young girl with a boyfriend haircut, pink sweater with fluffed cuffs and a colorful scarf browsed through the isle of designer pencil skirts. She pretended to be interested. But all the while her violet eyes flirted madly.  
  
On her heel, following her like a lovesick puppy, was an all-American blonde, blue-eyed boy sporting a stereotypical red and white high school football jacket.  
  
"It really is swell runnin' inta ya, Annie!"  
  
"It is?" She stopped and turned to look at him, batting her eyelids seductively, "I thought you were all into Cindy May these days…"  
  
"Awe shucks Annie!" The boy grinned shyly with perfect white teeth, scratching the back of his head. "You know there ain't no girl for me but you! And I was hopin' ta ask ya…"  
  
"Yes Brad?" She expectantly leaned forward.  
  
"Well the thing is… I..."  
  
"Yes?" she encouraged.  
  
"I was wonderin' if you might consider a…"  
  
His sentence was cut off, when a toddler waddled between them looking up at the girl with curiosity and pointing to her scarf.  
  
"Pwetty!"  
  
Both teen-agers giggled. The camera panned to the right and the sound boom lifted out of the way.  
  
The flustered director stood sharply and slapped his folded script down on his chair. "Dammit! Whose kid is this?"  
  
"I'm so sorry!" A young female shopper quickly scurried forward apologetically and red with embarrassment. She ducked under the 'Do Not Cross' tape marking off the shoot; grabbed her daughter from the set; and mouthed "sorry" to the two actors before readdressing the director. "She just got away from me."  
  
"Okay! Everybody take 10!" The director sighed, ignoring her.  
  
The young mother backed away and disappeared into the store, reprimanding her baby as she went.  
  
A crew member sporting enormous headphones patted the director on the back; and sympathetically joked, "Oh the joys of filming on location…"  
  
Noah didn't hear the director's response because Rodney called out, "Hey, Sutherland! Get your head outta the clouds and come help us unload, will ya?"  
  
Noah reluctantly peeled himself from the delivery room entranceway. The Bettie Page Clothing Emporium, where Noah had been working for over a year, was renting their premises out to Chimney Scrape, producers of the hottest teen soap currently gracing daytime television.  
  
When Noah first heard the news he'd raced home, excited to tell Luke. He'd always had a deep love of filming and once aspired to be a director.  
  
" _That's great, Bubby. Just make sure you don't end up in any of the shots."_  
  
" _I'm not stupid, Luke."_  
  
Now he found himself watching the production team with an ache in his heart for a lost dream that could never be fulfilled. Just another of the many precious things they'd left behind, when they fled the town of Oakdale, Illinois.  
  
"Sutherland!"  
  
Noah turned to see his two co-workers struggling to pull a heavy box from the delivery van. Quickly he joined them and together, on the count of three, they pushed the box across the floor and up against the back wall of the delivery room.  
  
"Fucking Jeans!" Rodney complained. "Weighs a ton! Swear I'll be putting in workman's comp for back injury one of these days!"  
  
Noah pulled the shutter closed on the back of the truck and knocked three times on the side, letting the driver know it was safe to pull away. Once the van was gone, he closed the two large delivery doors.  
  
"Geez man! You have stars in your eyes or what?" James asked Noah while rubbing his own sore neck. "You've been AWOL ever since that film crew got here!"  
  
"Sorry Jimmy," Noah replied with genuine remorse.  
  
He knew James was right. But he couldn't seem to pull himself away from the set. It fascinated him drawing him in like candy to a child.  
  
"Well, just don't let Brent catch ya!"  
  
Noah nodded. Their line manager was a stickler for the rules and kept his team on an extremely short leash. Three verbal warnings and you were out. And getting employment on fake IDs wasn't easy. Over the years, he and Luke had quickly learned how important it was to hold onto their jobs; no matter how unfulfilling they may be.  
  
As if on cue Brent stuck his head round the door, "Sutherland?"  
  
"Oh hey Brent."  
  
"Don't 'Oh hey Brent' me! There's a call for you in Customer Services. Some guy called Luke?"  
  
Noah's stomach clenched.  
  
 _Luke never calls me at work._  
  
Brent glared at him. "He says it's an emergency and it better be!"  
  
"Taking personal calls while on the clock too, Noah?" Rodney tut-tutted as soon as Brent was out of earshot. "You really know how to get yourself into trouble now, don'cha?"  
  
 _You don't know the half of it!_  
  
Without saying a word, Noah left the delivery room, making his way through the throngs of shoppers.  
  
 _Did Leo get into another fight?_  
  
It was a Wednesday and the store was crowded with customers shopping for bargain sales. It took everything in him not to physically push the human obstacles out of his way. Customer Services was located on the other side of the store; and at that moment it felt like miles.  
  
Noah ignored the dirty look from Alice, the store's resident bitch, and snatched the phone from her overly-manicured fingers.  
  
"Luke?" he asked as soon as Alice punched the blinking light.  
  
"Noah."  
  
 _Oh God no._  
  
There was no mistaking Luke's tone and Noah's thoughts went immediately to Leo.  
  
"Is Leo okay?" he asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Noah felt himself relax a little before he understood that if Luke wasn't calling about Leo there was only one other thing it could be.  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
"Listen," Luke began, deliberately keeping his voice even. Perhaps Luke was fooling those around him, but Noah knew him well enough to recognize the near hysteria residing there. "I've been arrested."  
  
Noah's legs buckled and he sat heavily in the nearest chair, gripping the phone to his ears with both shaky hands.  
  
"Jesus, Luke!" Panic erupted and he felt sick. It was a while before he realized Luke was speaking again. "I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"Dammit Noah… listen!" Luke raised his voice out of frustration but then he took a few minutes, breathing deeply into the phone; gathering himself. His voice softened. "I need you to keep calm. Okay, Bubby?"  
  
Noah's head pounded as blood rushed through his ears.  
  
"You still there?" Luke half whispered.  
  
"What's going to happen to Leo?" Noah choked. He wasn't one to cry often but he could feel the tears trekking down his cheeks at the thought of losing their son.  
  
Saying that out loud reminded him of where he was. When he looked up the two women behind the desk stood staring at him curiously along with a couple of shoppers, who quickly looked away.  
  
He bit his lower lip, suddenly feeling under scrutiny like the whole store knew his secret.  
  
"I'm at the police station," Luke was saying. "It's just a massive misunderstanding and I think Thomas Martinelli will convince them to let me go."  
  
Noah knew by Luke's measured tone that he was telling Noah to flee. They'd gone over and over this scenario so many times, although for a few years, they'd felt safe enough not to bother.  
  
 _We thought we'd done it…_  
  
"I understand." Noah worked to process only the thoughts that mattered and suppress the many questions befuddling his brain. "Are they going to charge you with anything?"  
  
Alice gasped and he glared at her. She quickly turned her back and pretended to help a customer who was just as interested in the call.  
  
"Possibly." Noah could hear the relief in Luke's voice now he knew for sure he had Noah back in control. "…for assault. I've already been processed…"  
  
 _They have Luke's fingerprints._  
  
"…but Thomas Martinelli thinks he can get me released _very_ soon."  
  
Noah wracked his brain trying to remember who that was.  
  
 _The BMW!_  
  
"The District Attorney?" he clarified.  
  
"That's right," Luke answered.  
  
"So… you're going home soon?"  
  
"Yes. Everything will be fine. You just go on with your usual day… you know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You just do everything you always planned to do _today_."  
  
"I understand. What about you?"  
  
"I'll meet you later… but…" This time Luke's voice cracked. "…if I'm held up for some reason… you'll just have to go on _without_ me…"  
  
Noah's breath shuddered. He sniffed and a few more tears fell.  
  
"Noah?" Luke's voice was fearful and that just made it harder. "You understand what I'm saying, right?"  
  
 _No, I can't leave you!_  
  
But Noah knew... Leo was all that mattered.  
  
"I love you, Luke." It was all he could say.  
  
"Same here."  
  
The phone disconnected and Noah's fingers ghosted over his lips. He was left wondering whether the goodbye kiss they'd shared that morning would be their last.


	3. Chapter 3

**Arlington, Texas, Bettie Page Clothing Emporium, 2019**  
  
It felt to Noah as if all eyes in the store were watching him. He was suddenly terribly aware of the security cameras that hovered overhead.  
  
He knew it was only natural paranoia from the intense dread and panic throbbing through his veins. He knew he should get moving, implement the plan. But his mind had suddenly emptied itself; stark like a fresh sheet of paper.  
  
 _I don't know what to do._  
  
"Are you okay?" Sydney asked him while Alice looked on.  
  
Her voice made him jump up from the chair and suddenly he was on the move, once more making his way through the store, only this time heading for the staff lockers.  
  
 _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…_  
  
Brent was on his lunch break, sitting at the small staff table.  
  
"I hope you told your _friend_ our policy on private phone calls!" he said through a mouthful of sandwich.  
  
Noah didn't even hear him. He headed straight for his locker, fumbling at the padlock as he struggled to enter the combination with shaking fingers.  
  
"What are you doing?" Brent asked, rising from his chair.  
  
Noah flung open the locker door. It banged loudly as he snatched his backpack and hurried from the room.  
  
Brent followed yelling, "Come back! It's not your lunch break!"  
  
Noah cringed as Brent's outrage attracted the attention of nearby shoppers. He felt like the word fugitive was tattooed on his forehead. At any second, one of them would yell out, "Hey! Isn't that that guy who…"  
  
He kept his head bowed low and raced for the elevators to the underground car park. He frantically pressed the call button. When the doors opened, he didn't bother to wait for the passengers inside to exit. He pushed them roughly aside, not caring about anything or anyone but their little family and staying together.  
  
He ran for his truck, tossing his backpack over to the passenger side and jumping in. The tires screeched as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator and pulled out of the garage in a flat five minutes.  
  
 _We'll have to tell Leo everything._  
  
It was a terrifying thought going back to the life they'd lead before; living underground, scared of their own shadows, nervous every time a stranger looked at them aslant. They might live on the edge of town in less than ideal accommodations, but it was bliss compared to the running.  
  
It was Damian Grimaldi, Luke's estranged biological father and head of a Maltase Mafia family, who originally taught them the art of disappearance.  
  
…  
  
 **Marshfield, Wisconsin, Dot's Diner, 2009**  
  
"What surname would you like to use?" Damian quickly asked in his smooth Italian accent; hands poised on the keys of his laptop as he sent instruction to his preferred forger.  
  
Just beyond Damian's graying head, through the window of the dingy pancake house, was a billboard advertising the latest season of 24; Jack Bower stood prepared, hands lifted, gun drawn.  
  
"Sutherland," Noah replied.  
  
Luke frowned at him curiously but nodded. They didn't have time to argue the details.  
  
"You must keep your first names," Damian continued without a flinch. "Your responses are more natural that way. But from this moment on, Luke Snyder and Noah Mayer don't exist."  
  
Luke and Noah's eyes locked, both trying to impart comfort to the other.  
  
"Do not try to leave the country," Damian warned. "Keep your head down and stay away from any situation where your identity can be checked. Take only low-paying jobs. Nothing flashy. Do you understand?"  
  
They nodded; all their faith put into the one man Luke had spent a lifetime mistrusting.  
  
"New destinations only. Anywhere you have been or lived before is out of the question. As are any people…" Damian gave Luke a deep all-knowing and forceful stare. "…and that includes me."  
  
Luke returned Damian's gaze, pain clouding his brown orbs, throat clenching on each swallow.  
  
"It's either that Luciano," Damian told him, purposely using Luke's birth name for emphasis. "...or you and Noah spend a lifetime apart."  
  
Luke nodded.  
  
"In prison!"  
  
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Luke snapped.  
  
Noah wanted to hold Luke so badly in that moment. He gripped Luke's hand hard under the table.  
  
Later, alone in a worn-out hotel room, he did just that and more. It was the first time they made love. There was no question of whether they were ready; they needed each other. It was an affirmation of all they were.  
  
Strewn at the foot of the worn bed were their new identities - faked birth certificates, driver's licenses, marriage certificate, job histories...  
  
It was also the first time they really allowed themselves to cry, both of them, for all they'd lost.  
  
Damian implicitly warned them to keep on the right side of the law; never deviate, never take risks. Leo was an accident, an uncanny coincidence as much their pleasure as their pain.  
  
…  
  
 **Tacoma, Washington, Sunnyside Trailer Park, 2010**  
  
Luke and Noah took a stroll down the main drive of the Sunnyside Trailer Park, passing the dilapidated trailers and, after only two days, already dreaming they were anywhere else.  
  
The entire place smelled of booze and despair. Forgotten laundry flapped from makeshift clothes lines; overflowing garbage cans littered the yards where grass had long since given up trying to grow green.  
  
Emaciated dogs and cats sniffed out food where they could find it, while kids ran wild, looking for windows to smash and cars to burgarlize.  
  
They passed a woman in a tattered summer dress, bent over a toddler, bottle of vodka clear in one hand.  
  
"There ya go, Babe!" she slurred. "You play nice now!"  
  
They'd seen a lot of this during their time on the run; parenting that would make an onlooker's blood run cold.  
  
They walked on by, paying little heed until she called out.  
  
"No fucking way!" Her voice had that unmistakable slur from years of substance abuse. "Noah Mayer? As I live and breathe!"  
  
Luke and Noah turned stifly, swallowing thickly at her use of "Mayer" and preparing to sprint if necessary.  
  
Standing before them was an older decrepit version of Lucy May Gordon-Brown, the girl who took Noah's virginity.  
  
Noah always used the word "took" because when _it_ happened, he never really stood a chance. She had her sights firmly set on him and hunted him down like a hungry pack animal. They never dated, but it wasn't from lack of her trying.  
  
She had her choice of men. She was head cheerleader in their final year of school; sleek and beautiful, but set on having the good looking but ultra shy new boy. Most likely drawn and fascinated by his disinterest.  
  
Noah did his best to ignore her. But when she finally did manage to corner him below the football stadium bleachers, he thought what the hell. He was sexually confused. This was his chance to prove to himself that he was the "man" his father wanted him to be. She even provided the condom.  
  
It would rank as one of the worst experiences of his life, leaving him feeling lost and totally inadequate.  
  
Two days after his encounter with Lucy May, Noah almost whooped when his father announced they'd be moving to Branson. It was one of the few times the transitory nature of his father's military career made him happy.  
  
Lucy squinted at Noah, regarding him through his beard. She placed both hands on her swaying hips. "It _is_ you!"  
  
Noah vigorously shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you're mistaken."  
  
She burst out laughing. "As if! For one, a girl _never_ forgets her first, not _never_! And second… I have very good reason to remember…"  
  
She hiccupped and wobbled before taking a swig from the bottle in her hand. As she stumbled closer, they could make out the clear tell-tale bruising of domestic abuse; another common aspect of trailer park life. Noah felt sad to see what had become of her.  
  
"Lucy May!" a man's voice called from inside the nearest trailer and terror clouded her black-rimmed eyes. "Get your lazy butt back on inside, ya hear?"  
  
"I'm comin!"  
  
She didn't say goodbye; it was as though she'd forgotten them entirely. She simply turned and left Luke and Noah standing there with their mouths agape. The trailer door loudly slammed behind her and a screaming argument erupted from within.  
  
Luke and Noah shared a look that communicated everything. Lucy May obviously paid little attention to news reports. But it wasn't a risk they could afford to take. They would have to leave and quickly.  
  
Noah had already turned and taken two strides in the direction of their trailer, when Luke made a strangled sound that had Noah spinning on his heels.  
  
Luke's expression displayed frightened realization; eyes round with shock. Noah followed his gaze to the small boy on the littered grass.  
  
He looked to be around three years old; squatting with chubby legs next to a blue bucket of muddy water in which he industriously dipped a series of plastic cups and old milk cartons, quietly babbling to himself.  
  
He wore nothing but a soiled diaper. His skin was caked in week-old grim; his thin baby hair set jet black against his forehead.   
  
Yet, it wasn't until he looked up at them with inquisitive cerulean eyes that Noah began to hyperventilate.  
  
 _So much for Lucy May's condom._  
  
It was the most agonizing few days of their lives. They argued a lot too; more than ever before. But they had no time to deal with the swirl of emotions this event brought on; no time to think whatsoever.  
  
They watched the baby for a few days, falling more and more in love with him and confirming what they already knew.  
  
They couldn't stay but they couldn't leave him there either.


	4. Chapter 4

**Arlington, Texas, HQ Three, 2019**  
  
Over the entire course of his forty year career as Police Chief of Arlington's 4th district, Archibald Blithe had yet to come across an FBI agent who didn't regard him or anyone else not holding a federal badge, with immediate disdain. Agent Adrian Williams was no exception.  
  
The argument over whether to release Luke Sutherland had been brewing in Archie's office for over an hour and the standoff between Williams and Martinelli seemed no closer to conclusion. As far as Archie was concerned, the District Attorney was spot-on; Sutherland was just an average blue-collar Joe caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
For the life of him, Archie couldn't work out exactly why Agent Williams had such a bone to grind with Sutherland other than some macho need to stamp his authority.  
  
 _Urinate up a tree like a dumb dog!_  
  
"Come on, Williams!" Martinelli was saying. "This is bullshit and you know it!"  
  
"What's 'bullshit'..." Williams countered, "...is _you_ using your position to interfere with justice! Why are you here anyway?"  
  
"Because Luke's a friend of mine."  
  
"Be that as it may, your _friend_ pulled a gun on me…"  
  
An angry Martinelli stood swiftly from his chair. Both Archie and Williams grimaced as the metal legs scrapped along the linoleum floor.  
  
"Oh for Christ's sake!" he yelled. "Luke _did not_ pull a gun on _you_. He pulled a gun on the unknown armed men, who stormed his office with automatic fucking weapons! You trying to tell me you'd have reacted any differently?"  
  
Williams folded his arms. "We identified ourselves. And anyway… call it a hunch, sixth sense, whatever… But I've got a feeling about this guy. Something in his eyes." He leaned forward to drum his point. "And my hunches are almost always right!"  
  
"Something in his _eyes_?" Martinelli shot back. "You some kind of clairvoyant?"  
  
Archie decided to step in before the two of them ended up in a punch up on the floor. "Look, Adrian... May I call you Adrian?"  
  
Williams disapprovingly frowned, but nodded.  
  
"I've known Tom for many a year now; and if he says this Luke guy is okay, then he's okay. You can trust the man's judgment. You have my word on that. Do we really need to waste precious law resources on something so cut and dry? Besides, Sutherland will be released into Tom's custody. The man has a life here. A clean record. He's not going anywhere."  
  
Williams narrowed his eyes at Martinelli. "You're fighting pretty hard for this one. Why is that?"  
  
Martinelli returned Williams' gaze with a serious expression. "I owe him. He helped me over a rough patch, when he fixed up my car."  
  
Williams flung himself back in the chair, hands flying upward. "Well! There you have it! He fixed your car! Whoopee for him! Let's let him loose on the world!" But even as he said this, it was clear his resolve was flagging.  
  
"Look," Archie reasoned. "You got the guys you came for. Sutherland wasn't even under surveillance, right?"  
  
Williams nodded and sighed. "Releasing him is a mistake… I just know it! But I'm letting you have this one…"  
  
"Thank you," Martinelli said with genuine gratitude. "You're doing the right thing here."  
  
"I sure do hope so... for all our sakes!" Williams replied, already heading for the door.  
  
...  
  
Luke's jiggling foot had surely caused the large dent he could see in the grey floor tile. He could hear the argument going on in the room next door. He couldn't make out the words but every time Martinelli's deep voice boomed through the wall, Luke felt a spurt of hope.  
  
So far the police and merely processed him. He had yet to be charged with anything.  
  
He'd forgotten how many times he'd checked the cheap plastic red clock above the door. Yet he checked it again. He'd been cuffed to the chair for two hours. Two hours since his fingerprints were spirited away through the vast network of cyberspace for analysis.  
  
 _It could be any moment now…_  
  
Drops of sweat ran down the side of his face and he irritably swatted them away. He felt sure Martinelli would get him off. But _when_? Right now he was cutting it a little close, if he wanted to catch up with Noah. Either he'd be discovered for who he was or he'd miss the rendezvous.  
  
 _Noah should have collected Leo by now._  
  
He wondered how long Noah would wait before he felt he _had_ to leave. Luke hoped Noah would see sense and go, when he got the chance. But deep down Luke knew better. Noah would wait for Luke until the very last split second, just as Luke would always wait for Noah.  
  
There was a burning sensation in the center of his chest that made him wheeze slightly as he breathed.  
  
 _Please let me see them again._  
  
The arm cuffed low to the leg of the chair stung with pins and needles from being wrenched in the same position for so long. Every part of him strained under the stress and pressure he felt, as though the walls were drawing together; crushing him.  
  
Finally, the door to the tiny office opened. When Luke saw the scowl on the face of Williams; and the victorious smile on the face of Martinelli, he almost cheered with relieved joy.  
  
He knocked those emotions down and tried to keep a straight face.  
  
Williams locked eyes with Luke, leaned with his palms flat on the table and came within inches from Luke's face. "Do not, I repeat, _do not_ point a weapon at a federal officer _ever_ again. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Yes, Sir." Luke nodded, overplaying his expression of shame.  
  
Williams regarded him for a few seconds longer, released an indignant puff of air through his nose and propelled himself back to standing. "The next time we come face to face Mr. Sutherland, I may not be as forgiving."  
  
He tipped a fake hat at Martinelli and left the room, heading down the corridor to locate his team as the police chief squatted by Luke's chair to unlock the cuffs.  
  
Luke gasped in relief, rubbing the red-raw wrist with a grimace and immediately standing to his feet.  
  
 _Go, go, go ,go, go…_  
  
Chief Blithe held out his hand for Luke to take. "Please accept my sincere apologies for the mistake, Mr. Sutherland."  
  
Hoping his sweaty palms wouldn't tip Blithe off, Luke shook the police chief's hand. "Please Sir, it's Luke, and there's really no need. It was my own stupid fault that caused the misunderstanding."  
  
Blithe smiled, impressed by Luke's obvious respect and good manners."  
  
Tom!" Luke exclaimed, turning to the District Attorney and grinning at him. As Tom took Luke's right hand to shake it, Luke cupped Tom's with this left. "You have no idea how much this means."  
  
Martinelli shook his head. "After everything you did for me Luke, the pleasure's all mine."  
  
Luke made sure he had Martinelli's full gaze when he said, "Thank you. Thank you _so_ much."  
  
He felt terrible for the fallout Martinelli and Blithe would be left with; and hoped Martinelli would remember this moment, seeing it for what it _really_ was... a heartfelt apology.  
  
"I wish I could give you a lift back to your car, Luke," Martinelli told him. "But I'm due in court in about ten minutes."  
  
The fact that the man felt guilty about this after giving Luke such a precious lifeline, made Luke feel even worse. "You've done more than enough! I can just grab a cab. It's not a problem."  
  
"Hell no!" Blithe insisted, patting Luke on the back with fatherly care. "I'll get somebody to drive you. It's the least this office can do after all you've been through today."  
  
"No, no… It's okay." Luke tried to wave him off. "I don't want to waste any more police time."  
  
"I insist!"  
  
 _Shit! Fuck small town courtesy!_  
  
Desperate to leave and disappear, riding in a police cruiser when his identity was seconds from being exposed was the very last thing Luke wanted. But, at the same time, it would look incredibly suspicious if he turned down the offer.  
  
Luke could do nothing but accept. He was introduced to rookie cop Kyle Miller, who "was only too happy" to drive him anywhere he wanted to go.  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
Pulling closed the passenger side door of the police cruiser, Luke's eyes fell on the police radio through which, at any second, his dark secret could be revealed.  
  
As Miller pulled away from the curb, Luke's mind raced to find a way out. It was at least a 30-minute drive back to his car and longer still back to the trailer park. He couldn't take that risk. He needed a logical alternative and fast.  
  
"So...," the officer asked with a smile. "...where can I drop you off?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Arlington, Texas, Cadlin Storage Facility, 2019**  
  
Cadlin Storage, just east of expansive Lake Arlington, was a small, family owned and operated business carefully selected by Noah due to their minimal requirements for identity checks.  
  
The business serviced the private individual mostly; people storing excess furniture along with personal and household items. As a result and since it was assumed the items held little monetary value, security at Cadlin was much lighter than that of one of the larger Big Yellows or SafeStores offering the same service.  
  
This suited the Sutherlands just fine.  
  
Noah pulled the Dodge up right outside the lobby; and noted they'd refurbished since his last visit years ago. Trying to look as collected as possible under the circumstances, he walked through the new glass sliding doors, over the polished cream tiles and up to the modern reception desk.  
  
A young girl stood as he entered and smiled sweetly at him. She seemed happy to have a customer. "Howdy!"  
  
Noah plastered a smile on his highly stressed face, "Hi there… I don't think I remember seeing you here before?"  
  
"Miss Melissa Cadlin," she replied, politely extending her hand for him to shake.  
  
"Noah Sutherland… very nice to meet you." In the back of his mind, Noah vaguely recalled a young teen-ager hanging out, when he first opened their account. He wondered whether this was the youngest of the eight Cadlin children now grown. "I'd like to access my storage unit, please."  
  
"Yes, of course, Mr. Sutherland. One moment please." She turned to her computer and began typing away furiously at it.  
  
Noah glanced back over his shoulder and out into the parking lot, his nerves on high alert. He watched the girl with a deep suspicion he knew was ridiculous. His knee tapped apprehensively against the side of the desk and he held back the desire he had to scream at her to hurry it up.  
  
"Ah, here you are!" she said at last, clicking her mouse. "Could you please confirm your address?"  
  
Noah faltered for a second, wracking his brain. They always used a fake address to open a storage account. He began to worry but then remembered with an ache in his heart. "Oakdale Avenue."  
  
The printer on the desk woke up with a sputter and began to spew out a printed sheet.  
  
She passed this over to Noah along with a pen. "Sign here, please."  
  
He scribbled his name; and she compared his signature to that on the computer screen before printing out another slip of paper.  
  
"Here's your code. You haven't been in quite sometime I see. Do you remember how it works?"  
  
Noah nodded. "Thanks."  
  
His heart pounded so hard he could hear it. He approached the electronic keypad and punched in the computer-generated code.  
  
The gate clicked and he pushed his way through it, following the long vacant corridor of rented lockers to the elevators. He pressed for the second floor and, as the elevator rose, used the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat from his forehead.  
  
Of course they'd been spotted before, numerous times. Especially in the beginning, when the story was hot and their arrest photos were plastered side by side all over the front page of every national newspaper.  
  
"… _still at large. Believed armed and extremely dangerous. Do not approach."_  
  
If they hadn't been in such a serious situation, they both might have taken the time to laugh at that. But in those first few months, they'd simply had to keep on the move with their artificially-colored hair left to grow and sporting beards; waiting for people to lose interest. Always with "the plan" carefully laid out and often rehearsed.  
  
But this time on the run, things would be different. Within the next few hours, a federal computer would match Luke Sutherland's fingerprints to that of the missing Luke Snyder. Shortly after that, the feds would learn of Noah and their son…  
  
This time their cover was well and truly blown.  
  
 _Oh Leo!_  
  
Noah's stomach somersaulted; and he pressed his hands to the cold steel of the elevator, a wave of nausea claiming him.  
  
He _had_ to hold it together. Luke said the district attorney was working on getting him released. There was still a chance for them to make it out, if they could only keep their cool. They'd worry about everything else once they were safely at the cabin.  
  
Going back to the trailer was out of the question. Any possessions they had stored there were now lost to them. That would be the first place the feds would head the moment they discovered Luke's identity. And as far as Noah knew, they already had.  
  
" _Don't take any risks!"_  
  
With Damian's voice firing instructions, Noah knew he needed to stock up on essentials; and for that he needed cash, a lot of it.  
  
He entered the pin to open locker 213; and withdrew the brown paper bag, peeling back the flap to check to see if the money was still in there, even though he could feel it was.  
  
More than $50,000 cash; all that was left of the money Damian had given to them, stored away for quick retrieval. Money especially for this day, one they hoped would never come.  
  
Also in the safe was a small semi-automatic pistol along with a box of bullets. Noah hesitated a second but grabbed the weapon, checked the safety; and stuck it into the tight waistband of his jeans, making sure his shirt covered it. He snatched the bullets and dropped them in the paper bag along with the money.  
  
 _So far so good._  
  
Noah arrived back in the lobby with the large brown paper bag of money hefted under his left arm; and pressed against his chest.  
  
"Did you get everything you wanted, Sir?" Melissa inquired.  
  
"Yes, thank you I did," Noah replied, trying but failing to keep the uneven tone from his voice. "Goodbye."  
  
As he turned to leave he froze. Parked beside his bright red pickup was a police patrol car and two officers were taking a rather unhealthy interest in it. One even stood up on the step to peer inside.  
  
Noah tightly gripped the paper bag; and held back a gasp, when that same officer locked eyes with him through the plate glass window.  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
With nowhere to run, Noah was forced to remain exactly where he was, as the officer jumped back down from the truck and walked forward, activating the glass doors. They slid open and a breath of hot Texas air blew in; stifling, suffocating.  
  
 _Breathe! Keep calm!_  
  
"That your truck?" the officer asked, thumbing back over his shoulder.  
  
Very slowly, Noah's right hand slid across his lower stomach and behind the large paper bag, curling around the handle of his hidden gun. He didn't _ever_ want to threaten anybody. But he would if he had to.  
  
Since he was the only person the truck _could_ possibly belong to, Noah nodded. "Yeah."  
  
"Sure is a beaut'!" The man's serious face burst into a wide grin of glee. "'62?"  
  
Heart hammering, hairs on the base of his neck rising, Noah carefully nodded.  
  
"A classic! Always wanted one of them for mysel' but the little lady forbade it... Says they ain't practical with three kids and one on the way… but I gotta tell ya… in another life I'd be buying mysel' one of them old girls quick like!"  
  
Noah smiled just a little too slowly and he saw a flash of something in the eyes of the second officer.  
  
"You from around here?" the man asked, moving forward to get a better look at Noah.  
  
Noah swallowed. "Um, yeah… I work over at the mall…"  
  
The officer regarded him; chewing on a wad of gum.  
  
"Well…" Noah said, addressing the first cop. "Maybe you'll get your wish one day. Good afternoon to you both."  
  
The second officer seemed to relax and dismiss whatever was bothering him. He smiled at Noah. "Have a nice day now."  
  
Noah had never wanted to run more in his life. But he forced himself to walk back to the truck and casually slip in behind the wheel. He placed the bag on the seat next to him and took a deep breath of air.  
  
When he dared to glance inside the lobby, the cops weren't even looking his way.  
  
Noah drove one block from the storage units; pulled up in an alley; flung himself from the truck; and vomited up his breakfast against the wall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Washington DC, Washington, Carrabba's Italian Grill, 2019**  
  
United States Senator Charles Oswald Marsden, R-Washington State, was in league with the devil. It wasn't a contract he'd entered into lightly. But not blessed with an endless family fortune or the boy-next-door good looks of his political opponents, Charles was forced to be creative, when it came to his race for the White House.  
  
The other two front-runners to the Presidency, Former Governor Jason Cross, I-Nebraska; and U.S. Representative Paul Dempsey, D-Rhode Island, had only to flash perfectly white teeth for the cameras; technology somehow hiding the blind ambition in their eyes that was blatantly obvious when a person came face to face with either one of them.  
  
In fact, if the American public could see the truth of what Charles saw in those two they'd run away, screaming "Save us!"  
  
Charles was far older than was considered the average for a presidential candidate. With a ring of hair boarding his bolding head like a clown and cursed to have inherited his father's strange knob-shaped nose, Charles had to be smarter; offer clear cut policies and promises; and had to deliver in order to secure those vital votes.  
  
Had to make choices that sat like arsenic in his gut; had to associate with people who he considered to be of low character.  
  
Just like the snide, sneak of a man sitting across from Charles now, smirking at the power he had over a U.S. senator so close to securing the highest office in the land.  
  
FBI Deputy Director Stanley Marsh, cared only for position and power. He was cold, unfeeling, terrifying really. He rolled a wad of spaghetti around his fork and stuck the entire stack in his wide mouth, chewing loudly and swallowing hard before setting his steely gaze on Charles.  
  
"I would advise you, Marsden, not to mess with me. We were both to benefit from the agreement if you remember… and right now, the way I see it," he pointed the fork at Charles. "Things are looking far peachier for you than they are for me…"  
  
Charles nervously cleared his throat, eyes scanning the quiet restaurant for fear of a rogue reporter or rival candidate listening in; all looking for any reason to topple the great Sen. Charles Marsden.  
  
And by God, the information Stanley Marsh knew would not only topple Charles but would definitely result in the remainder of his life spent behind bars.  
  
 _Being bum fucked by some guy called Brutus!_  
  
He shivered at the thought.  
  
"Look Stanley," he repeated for the 100th time. "Like I explained to you from the start, I haven't the clout to make you director. All I can do is give my recommendation to the powers that be; apply pressure there. Getting the job still requires some effort on your part. Hell, do you think it was easy getting you made deputy? Fox was up for that job! And he didn't go down quietly if you recall!"  
  
After a sip of red wine, Marsh smiled. "Just making sure we still understand each other, Charles. I wouldn't want you getting your crown and then forgetting what's owed. I saved your bacon twice now. And we both have something to lose, if the truth comes out. In fact, you have more to lose than me!"  
  
"And I appreciate it, Stanley. But that doesn't change the fact there is only so much I can do. You'll need to pull a stellar card out of your hat to demonstrate you're the man for the job."  
  
Truthfully, Charles prayed every day Marsh wouldn't succeed as director. The thought of this man in such a powerful position made Charles want to throw his expensive meal up on the floor.  
  
Marsh opened his mouth to speak but was prevented by the buzzing of his phone where it flashed between them on the white tablecloth.  
  
"Excuse me," he said with fake cordiality. "I must take this."  
  
"Certainly."  
  
Charles watched as Marsh lifted the device to his ear.  
  
"Marsh here… "  
  
The change of expression on the deputy director's face made Charles nervous.  
  
"Where?" Marsh asked with obvious excitement, "No shit! And he's in custody? Who captured him?... Well, get me the number of that station. I want to talk to Agent Williams personally."  
  
Marsh grinned wide at the senator as he popped his phone in the top pocket of his shirt. He rose, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair; and slipping it over his slim shoulders.  
  
"Well Charlie, "he beamed. "I may just have the card I need! If the news I've just received is true, you'll also have one less thing to worry about."  
  
He slapped Charles once on the back and left the restaurant with a spring in his step.  
  
The senator shuddered and downed the rest of his wine in one swallow.  
  
…  
  
 **Arlington, Texas, HQ Three, 2019**  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
Archie wasn't sure how many times Williams had used that particular profanity over the last 15 minutes. But he was sure, if he'd been counting, it would top well over a 100.  
  
"It was an honest mistake," he said, trying in vain to placate the irate agent. Personally, he couldn't believe the news himself.  
  
A red-faced Williams glared at him. "Do you _really_ think the deputy director of the FBI gives a _fuck_ about honest or not? Jesus Christ! We _had_ him! We had him sitting right in here handcuffed to _that_ fucking chair!"  
  
Williams wildly pointed at said chair before gripping it in both hands and flinging it into the wall with a loud bang.  
  
Archie flinched from where he stood, eyes dropping to once more scan the laptop screen where a wanted poster glared back.  
  
At first, he was sure there'd been a mistake. He even sighed in relief when he saw the picture of the clean-cut boy staring out at him. But his relief was short lived. He had only to picture that face with a few life lines and day-old stubble to know he was looking at a younger version of the man they'd just let free.  
  
Actually, it was the eyes that were the giveaway; large and brown, expressive.  
  
 _He doesn't look like a killer._  
  
A knock at the door distracted both of them. Archie sighed, opening it to reveal one of the department's young clerks.  
  
"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Chief." She smiled nervously, aware of the tension in the air if not the reason for it.  
  
"Yes, what is it, Angelica?"  
  
"There's a call for Agent Williams."  
  
Red faced, Williams stormed to the door. "Tell whoever it is I'm busy right now! And hold all calls."  
  
The girl's eyes widened in panic and she stuttered, "I'm very sorry but he's insistent. It's a Stanley Marsh?"  
  
She said this as though she didn't know who Stanley Marsh was. But his notoriety was such that the recognition shone clear in her green eyes.  
  
"Fuck!" Williams swore.  
  
 _What's the expletive count at now?_  
  
Archie would have laughed, if it weren't for the implications the whole fiasco would have on his department; and on the career of District Attorney Thomas Martinelli. The police chief didn't particularly care what happened to Williams, although he wouldn't wish himself in the agent's position for anything. Marsh's brutal reputation was legendary.  
  
"Line eight," the girl whispered, before shying away without waiting to be dismissed.  
  
"You can take it in here," Archie told Williams with sympathy. "I'll make sure you aren't disturbed. And I'll check in with Miller. I know the chances are slim, but Snyder may still be riding with him in that patrol car."  
  
"I wouldn't count on it!" Williams huffed, lifting the phone to receive his bashing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Arlington, Texas, En Route, 2019**  
  
Police Officer Kyle Miller thoroughly enjoyed these moments, when he got to drive the patrol car. Being a rookie cop in his first year on the job basically meant spending most of his time sitting behind a desk stapling forms and stuffing envelopes.  
  
Definitely not what he imaged police work would be like when he started basic training.  
  
 _Bet Starsky and Hutch never had to put up with this shit!_  
  
He took a right into the flat, dry expanse of Sherry Street, admiring a set of yellow complexes along the way; eyes catching the For Sale sign right out front the main gated entrance.  
  
 _Should get Darla to call them up. Could be a great starter home for us…_  
  
Kyle knew there was a shorter route he could take but seeing as the drive was better than the desk, he really was in no hurry.  
  
"Kilo Delta Two, come in."  
  
He shook his head as he heard his call sign come over the radio.  
  
 _Dammit! Can't I have one moment's peace?_  
  
He reached over and pressed the transmit button. "This is Kilo Delta Two reporting in, over."  
  
"Kilo Delta Two, report status."  
  
"Coming up on East Abram. About One Zero minutes from HQ Three. Over."  
  
There was a long pause of nothing but dead air.  
  
"Um… Kilo Delta Two… What's the status on your passenger?"  
  
Kyle blinked in surprised, "I dropped him at South Central Hospital a few minutes ago. He said he was visiting a sick aunt."  
  
Muffled in the background of the radio, somebody shouted "Fuck!"  
  
…  
  
 **Arlington, Texas, Vicinity of South Central Hospital, 2019**  
  
The idea to have Miller drop him at the hospital was genius! And it placed Luke only four blocks from the rendezvous point.  
  
When he was sure the patrol car had left, he exited the hospital lobby and strode with purpose down the road. He wanted to run. But he was terrified of drawing any kind of suspicion. So he forced himself to keep to a steady pace.  
  
 _Almost there._  
  
They'd been renting the standalone garage from an elderly couple named Earl and Mavis Granger ever since they first moved to Arlington. The couple was in their 90s and lived in a retirement complex south of the city.  
  
He and Noah searched high and low for the safest place to stow the van and emergency supplies. They figured a couple that frail would have little opportunity to get curious and check out what the Sutherlands had stored in their garage.  
  
As it was, they were right. So long as they received the monthly check, Earl and Mavis seemed happy with the couple's custom.  
  
The garage was set away from a large white house with blue shutters that had once been the Granger's home, until it became too much for them to maintain. They sold the house but retained the detached garage. They used the rental on it to supplement their pensions.  
  
The road leading up to the side of the house was unkempt and grass grew high between the strips of the cracked concrete driveway. Luke walked over the grass, stomping it down with his feet; hoping they'd be able to drive the van out over it without causing any axel damage.  
  
Hell, he wasn't even sure the van would start at all! Again, he cursed their complacency.  
  
When he reached the garage, all was quiet and he swallowed painfully. He knew Noah had at least been there. The huge padlock they used to secure the door was gone.  
  
He knocked tentatively on the corrugated door.   
  
"Noah? Are you there? It's me."  
  
He heard a shuffle and a hopeful voice. "Luke?"  
  
Luke grinned in relief. They hadn't left him.  
  
"Yes, it's me. Stand back, okay? I'm opening up."  
  
The roll-top door was rusty and Luke had to pull and push hard to get it open. Noah stood right on the other side of the door and Luke dropped his arms to drown in the blue eyes he'd just come so close to losing.  
  
"I'm so sorry," Luke whispered.  
  
They stared at each other for minutes before Noah hooked the back of Luke's neck and pulled their foreheads together.  
  
"I'm so shit-scared!" Noah declared.  
  
Luke nodded his head against Noah's, holding onto the man's wrists and feeling him tremble. "Me too. But we've been here before."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Luke shrugged, "A stupid twist of fate! Absolutely nothing to do with us! Does it really matter?"  
  
"No. I suppose not." Noah kissed him. Smooth and sweet; hinting at the desperation and fear they both felt.  
  
"God!" Noah whispered as he pulled Luke in his arms, holding him so tight it hurt, "I kept thinking what I'd do if I had to leave you behind!"  
  
Luke pulled back and scanned the garage.  
  
Noah had been busy. The van was stocked with food and clothes. Luke could see the box of weapons waiting to be loaded into the vehicle. But there was something glaringly absent.  
  
"Noah, where's Leo?"  
  
Noah shook his head, eyes somber, "Luke… we totally forgot!"  
  
"Forgot what?" Luke asked; feeling a sick hand of dread choke him.  
  
"Baseball game against Fort Worth! He's not due back at school for another 15 minutes."  
  
…  
  
 **Arlington, Texas, En Route, 2019**  
  
Leo Sutherland detested Baldwin Junior High with every bone in his body. But then he'd hated pretty much every other school he'd attended over his short academic career and he'd been to many!  
  
The reasons for why, out of all the towns and cities they'd lived in, his parents should suddenly decided to take root in Arlington, flew over Leo's head completely.  
  
Not only were the majority of people bigoted beyond belief; they also hated Jews, Blacks, Mexicans, Latinos and, most of all, 'trailer park trash'.  
  
Basically anybody who deviated even one inch from the narrow path of life the people of Arlington considered "normal", was targeted.  
  
Okay, so maybe he was being a little general himself. He had made one or two good friends over the years they'd spent there. Not all the people of Arlington were that way.  
  
The old lady, Rose, who worked with his dad over at the garage, always gave him candy when he visited.  
  
He'd been able to relax for the first time in his life. He'd gotten close to some of the other kids; allowed himself to settle; dared to call the place home. In the past, he'd never known when his parents would decide to up sticks and move on again.  
  
So, as must as Arlington was dry and boring it was at least stationary.  
  
He liked being settled. He definitely didn't really want to move again.  
  
He turned his gaze from outside the bus window and noticed, three seats ahead of him, Craig Greenford glaring back through one painfully-bruised black eye.  
  
"Hey Craig," Leo sang, grinning with satisfaction as though they were the best of friends. "How's the shiner?"  
  
His two best friends, Max and Shane, sniggered and congratulated Leo on his dig by slapping him on the back.   
  
"Leo Sutherland!" Leo rolled his eyes at the sound of Mr. Farrow's voice from somewhere up front of the bus. "You have been warned!"  
  
He had been… twice before he got on the bus; once on the bus and three times before the game. The only reason he'd been allowed to attend was because he was the school's best batter by a mile.  
  
 _Make that two._  
  
The fact that Craig Greenford spent every spare moment of his day finding ways to insult and humiliate Leo didn't seem to matter as far as the authority in the school administration was concerned.  
  
Leo was not only the son of gay parents. To top it all off, he was also labeled as 'trailer park trash' which, by default, meant he was always in the wrong. That was just how it went.  
  
Leo knew his parents could afford to buy a house and live like regular people, if they so chose. That would at least remove one of the worst sources of bully ammunition. But then they'd be tied down. And for some unfathomable reason, the thought of being tied down seemed to terrify both his fathers.  
  
Leo slumped in his seat and sighed as the school gates came into view.  
  
 _A whole hour of Biology before home time! Sucks!_


	8. Chapter 8

Arlington, Texas, En Route, 2019

"Shit!" Luke bashed his fist into the dash.

With his nerves already on tenterhooks, Noah jerked slightly causing the van to swerve into the oncoming lane before he corrected the vehicles steering.

During all the times they'd sat together, lay together, walked together, repeating detail after detail of their getaway plan, the possibility never was discussed.

Even when they took an odd day off work to practice dry getaway runs, never had Luke or Noah considered the possibility of Leo not being where he usually should be.

"How could we fucking miss this?" Luke gritted through his teeth.

Noah remained silent, all his focus on trying to keep his foot on the gas when really every instinct told him to stop. The years spent running repeated like a broken record on continuous replay in his head.

"We let our guard down!" Luke continued, oblivious to Noah's internal doubts. "We've been too complaisant recently!"

Noah listened to Luke's ranting and self-recrimination for another 10 minutes before he simply had to stop.

He pulled over into the shoulder of the road, turned off the engine; and sat staring literally and figuratively at the long road ahead.

"Noah?" Luke gasped in desperation. "What are you doing? Why are you stopping?"

Noah shook his pounding head without taking his eyes from the road or his hands from the steering wheel. "I can't do this again."

Luke slumped, all the depression he'd held at bay claiming him briefly. Really, it was a relief to let it and he huffed back a sob.

Crying won't help! Don't you fucking cry! 

Finding strength from somewhere, he rubbed Noah's stiff elbow. "Come on, Bubby. Don't flake out on me now, okay? I kinda need you."

Noah looked right at him but oddly through him in a way that made Luke feel distinctly empty.

"Maybe we should just turn ourselves in," Noah muttered, almost like he was voicing a thought out loud.

"And what happens to Leo then, ha?"

A flash of pain crossed Noah's features; the blue disappearing behind lids as Noah squeezed his eyes shut.

"His mother's dead," Luke continued. "Not that she was much of an option anyway! He'll end up in care!"

Noah already understood all that Luke said. He knew Luke was desperate to get them moving again.

"And this?" Noah asked, flinging both arms in the air, desperate for Luke to provide some kind of solution that would mean a happy life for their son. "This is a better life? Running? Dragging him from place to place? That's the life my father made me live and I hated it Luke!"

"You are nothing like your father and you know it! We've done the best we can for him in a bad situation. And he's happy."

"Is he? Really Luke? He's getting into fights at school about three times a week!"

"Noah, there is no turning ourselves in this time," Luke placated. "This thing… it's gone on for too long. There'll be no prison… they'll find a way to kill us. You know that, right?"

Noah sighed deeply; his fists bone white, where they gripped the steering wheel.

"What other option do we have?" Luke asked him.

Noah was silent for a minute. "There is one thing we could try…"

Luke knew where Noah was headed before the brunette even uttered the first word of that sentence. He was already shaking his head. "We can't! We've been over this, Noah! We can't go back! Not ever! Not even for this!"

Noah gazed out of the car window at the expanse of Arlington's business district. But Luke knew all Noah was seeing now was the vast forests and hills of the Snyder Family Farm back in Oakdale, Illinois.

"He'd have the best life on the farm. They'd take him! I know they would!"

Luke shifted around to face Noah dead on. "Look at me."

Noah shook his head.

"Look at me, Bubby." Luke waited until he had Noah's full however reluctant attention. "You think I don't want that for him, too? If I thought it would work, I'd do it tomorrow. Despite the risk to us…"

Luke's left thumb came up to stroke Noah's chin; while his right interlaced between Noah's fingers.

"But how would my folks explain where he came from? Who he is? And then he's taken by the authorities anyway. We'd be putting the family and Leo in a very difficult situation."

Tears glinted down Noah's cheek but he nodded.

"Besides," Luke sighed, "now that they know about him, they can use Leo to get to us."

"I know." Noah waited another minute to gather himself before sniffing and straightening up in the seat. He turned the key and revved the engine. "Let's go get him then."

Luke smiled and ruffled the back of Noah's neck. He wished there was something he could say; anything to ease the strain that was causing veins to rise along Noah's temple.

…

Arlington, Texas, HQ Three, 2019

The most crime Arlington's finest ever got to witness first hand was the occasional bout of shoplifting or petty drug use. On the whole, Arlington was one of the safest places to live in all of Texas.

Hell, some people still left their car's unlocked.

Really, the police acted as glorified babysitters; reprimanding the city's bored youth or sobering up the occasional drunk and disorderly citizen.

Thus, the DEA's surprise raid that morning on Leyton's Motors caused a flurry of excitement and speculation rarely witnessed within Archie's precinct.

With the raid being such a rare event nothing could have prepared Archie's men for the shock of discovering the reason for Agent Williams' profanity vomit.

Archie sighed.

Seems cases are just like buses. You wait ages for one. Then two come at once! 

Of course, Archie knew of the Oakdale case. Everybody in law enforcement would have heard about it at one point or another. It was the great Stanley Marsh's one-and-only open file; solved yet unresolved due to the escape and disappearance of the two men convicted of the mass murder.

Silence fell in the briefing room as soon as Williams entered; his face still ashen from being reamed out by Marsh over the phone.

The room was filled to bursting with a few FBI agents and some of Archie's own officers handpicked to work on the case.

Williams came to stand next to Archie behind a large map-strewn table. Beyond them was a wall length white board soon to be covered with information as the case progressed.

"Alright!" Williams began, immediately demanding utmost command with just that one word. "We fucked up royally this morning. But we're not going to waste time dwelling on that! Let's move on and get this guy in custody where he belongs. We need to contain the area; institute a perimeter."

Williams glared around the room, establishing eye contact with each person there. "I trust you are all familiar with this case. But I want to make sure you know exactly who it is we are dealing with here. Luke Snyder and Noah Mayer killed seven people in cold blood, including Mayer's own father; a man much valued and admired by the FBI and a close friend of Senator Marsden.

"Do we know how they escaped?" a young officer asked from the back of the room and many of the others present nodded their interest.

"No," Williams answered flatly. "They had help from the outside. But investigators at the time turned up nothing. Snyder and Mayer escaped the day of their sentencing; and have been in hiding ever since. This is the closest anybody in law enforcement has every gotten to apprehending one of them!"

Williams paused for a moment to allow that to sink in. "Okay! Now that we're all on the same page, what do we have so far?"

All eyes fell to Archie.

"Not much I'm afraid. Snyder managed to convince Officer Miller to drop him at South Central Hospital here." Archie indicated the location on the map for the benefit of the agents not from Arlington. "Officers are already there checking it out, but as you can expect, he's long gone."

"What about his home?" Williams asked, "It's a trailer right?"

"Yes, we have officers stationed there as well as at Leyton Motors. But I doubt he's stupid enough to return to either."

"Roadblocks?"

"With the manpower we have available, it will take at least two hours to block every exit. I've had to call in reinforcements from Bedford and Grand Prairie."

"We do have one advantage," volunteered Deputy Police Chief Peter Carroll from where he stood, leaning against the wall.

"What's that?" Williams asked.

"Guy's been caught off guard, hasn't he? No matter how smart he is there's no way he was prepared for what happened this morning."

Archie silently nodded.

"You may be right." Williams agreed. "We might just have a chance to make history here people. So let's not waste any time. We don't know what their plan of action is. But you can be sure they have one."

"We have to think logically here," Archie said. "They're gonna need things to escape. A car, money… Where's that gonna come from? His wallet was left at the garage. He can't go home."

"We know he called Mayer," Peter reminded them.

"Yes." Williams nodded. "Did anybody notice anything strange during that call. Who was there?"

"Well I was," Archie said. "But damned if I was listening in. Why would I? Sullivan, you were there. Do you remember anything?"

Officer Kenneth Sullivan shook his head, red hair flopping from side to side. "None that I recall."

"Hey!" An excited yelp from the back of the room had all heads turning. It was young FBI Agent Dennis Soble. He was half standing at a computer screen with one hand in the air like a schoolboy trying to get attention in a class.

"You got something to share Agent Soble?" Archie asked.

"I think so. I took a chance and ran the name Sutherland through the system, filtering out anything not Arlington related…"

"And?" Williams was growing impatient.

"And I got one hit... Leo Sutherland, age 12, registered at Baldwin Junior High."

Archie sighed. "Nice try Soble, but how would two guys on the run from the law end up with a kid? It's too long a shot in the dark."

Soble stood tall, chest out in pride, an all-knowing grin on his face. "Same home address as the trailer."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chicago, Illinois, Cook County Criminal Courts, 2009**  
  
The only time they got to see each other was in the court room. They would be escorted in separately; feet shackled and hands cuffed in front. They would be positioned on either side of the two very expensive lawyers Luke’s maternal grandmother, Lucinda Walsh, found for them.  
  
 _Fat lot of good they are when the whole affair is rigged to the nines!_  
  
The chains would be removed but they weren’t allowed to touch. They weren’t even allowed to speak to each other unless it was through a formal request made by their lawyers. And then only if the judge felt it was in line with the trial.  
  
That hurt more than anything.  
  
The day of the sentencing was hot and stuffy because a rat had chewed through a cord in the air-conditioning system.  
  
Noah had never seen Luke look more scared. The blonde kept wiping his hands down the front of his black trousers.  
  
Of course Noah tried to take the blame. After their arrest, during the first round of questioning, he was quick to realize just how thoroughly they were being set up. So Noah told the cops he'd gone after his father in a frenzied rage; and Luke had found him there. Luke was totally innocent.  
  
What Noah didn’t count on was Luke, sitting in the room opposite, telling the authorities the exact same thing. Except Luke was the shooter in that version.  
  
And so, in trying to save each other, they inadvertently dug themselves into a much deeper hole.  
  
Confessions of guilt from both suspects. Fingerprints all over the weapons. Gun powder residue all over their hands.  
  
“All rise,” called the bailiff, a large round man with bushy mustache. “This court is now in session. The Honorable John Crichton presiding.”

As the court preliminaries continued, Noah could hear Luke’s mother and grandmothers, sniffing in the gallery just behind him, where the Snyders all sat.   
  
During the course of the trial, Noah never once looked their way. Instead he kept his head bowed, ashamed for everything his presence in their lives had come to mean. 

_A curse_.   
  
He especially couldn't bear to witness the disappointment he was sure he'd find in Holden Snyder's kind blue eyes; another father-figure, whose expectations he'd failed to measure up too.

“…Has the jury reached a verdict?” 

Noah pulled his collar away from his neck in an effort to breathe better. His vision blurred.

“We have, your Honor.”

“Would the defendants please rise?”

Noah looked up at the judge but found he couldn’t move. His lawyer patted him on his shoulder and he was suddenly standing on legs of jelly. 

He looked over at Luke, who at that moment stared down at his feet.

_I’m sorry._

“In the case of State v. Luke Snyder, as to Count 1, Murder in the First Degree, we the jury find the defendant… guilty.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Noah saw Luke stagger slightly; and he heard a women cry out behind him. 

“In the case of State v. Luke Snyder, as to Count 2, Conspiracy to commit murder, we the jury find the defendant…”

Noah knew what the verdict would be for both of them. They were guilty from the word go and no jury was ever going to acquit them. This was the way the entire case had been orchestrated, planned. They were pawns in a much, much bigger game. 

The only major achievement of their lawyers was to get the death penalty off the table. But, unpopular in Illinois at the time and under review, it wasn’t that difficult. Instead they were served with seven life sentences with no chance of parole. 

Even though Noah knew the verdict was inevitable, it still shook him to hear it read out loud. He turned his head to see Deputy Director Stanley Marsh in the gallery; small smirk on his thin lips. 

As the proceedings were brought to a close and with permanent separation imminent, Luke defied the rules to push past the lawyers and grab Noah in a death grip; so tight, it took the court security five minutes to pry them apart. The last thing Noah did was to capture a whiff of Luke’s honey-scented hair.

They were allowed a few minutes to say their good byes to the heart-broken Snyders, but Noah stayed away. He couldn’t face them. He turned his back so as not to witness Luke’s tearful farewell. Even when Luke’s mother, Lily, called his name he simply shook his head and closed his eyes to her pleas.

_I’m so sorry…_

Their ankles and wrists were shackled once more and they were led away down a long concrete corridor to two transport vehicles parked in wait. Bulbs flashed madly as news reporters struggled to get shots of the convicted twosome from behind the high razor-wire topped fences. 

Their heads turned toward each other, their eyes locked for the last time; promises of eternal love reflecting back and forth before they were helped into the individual vans, ready to be transported to separate prisons. 

…

**Chicago, Illinois, En Route, 2009**

It was so typical of Noah to blame himself. His blue eyes radiated guilt and he shied away from Luke’s family like a scolded puppy with its tail between its legs. It was one of Luke’s greatest regrets. He could do nothing to help alleviate Noah’s misplaced sense of guilt. Since their arrest contact was minimal and now, sitting in the back of a transport van on his way to prison, final. 

His eyes were bone dry from crying all night in his holding cell. There wasn’t a single tear left to shed yet his eyes still painfully stung. He lifted his cuffed hands to rub at them.

He could still see Noah’s transport through the square window at the back of the van. It followed behind them, flanked by three police motorcycles with blue lights flashing. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off it, knowing that at some point it would vanish; ferrying the love of his life across state lines; parting them forever. 

Eventually that moment of dread came; and the two vans parted as they reached a complicated spaghetti junction. It happened too fast for Luke and he gasped, instinctively trying to rise to his feet in a futile attempt to stop the inevitable.

“Remain seated!” There were two guards riding in the back with him. The one that spoke pushed Luke back down by one shoulder. 

Luke hardly had the time to right himself, when a loud bang was followed by a shudder that sent them all tumbling in a heap to the floor of the van. As they struggled to untangle themselves, Luke’s gaze flitered to the window; where Noah’s transport could be seen speeding away in the distance. 

He blinked and watched as a cargo truck deliberately swerved into the side of Noah’s transport sending it spinning out of control and over the central reservation.

_It’s them! They want us dead!_

“Noah!” Luke screamed. 

He tried to reach the van’s door, as the tires screeched beneath them. He barely made it to his feet before their own vehicle was once again rammed from the right. The van rolled, once, twice, three times.

At one point, Luke actually felt the vehicle fly through the air and he squeezed his eyes shut, stomach lurching in anticipation of the sickening impact to come. 

…

Noah was too exhausted to ask questions. Two strong men manhandled him into the back of a Mercedes; hands still cuffed in front of him, although the leg shackles had been removed.

He drifted in and out of consciousness; lying across the back seat of the sedan. His head throbbed in places where it had slammed into the side of the van as they rolled down a steep embankment.

_Where’s Luke?_

“Luke?” he tried to ask, although he knew he wouldn’t get an answer from these people. 

He figured he'd be taken to a derelict building somewhere and shot because the legal system screwed up and failed to give them the death penalty. 

Maybe it would be for the best. Surely death was better than life in prison. At least they’d be together. 

Noah vomited behind the driver’s seat. It seemed to go on forever and he wondered where it came from. With all the stress of the trial, he hadn’t really been eating and drinking all that much. 

“Ah Man! Somebody upfront moaned, “Shit! I just had this baby cleaned!”

They drove for what felt like hours and Noah wished it would just end. He’d reached the lowest point he thought it was possible for a person to sink mentally. He simply couldn’t take any more. He welcomed death. 

Then the road surface changed. Noah knew that sound from life on the farm. They’d passed onto a dirt road. 

_Soon now._

When they finally parked and pulled him from the car, the sun was setting and the light shone bright in his eyes. He saw sparks and nothing else as his captors dragged him across a filthy chicken yard. 

He could barely walk and kept falling over his own feet. 

They entered a large warehouse where he was dragged down a long dark corridor filled with the sound of clucking birds and the overpowering smell of chicken manure. 

A door opened out into a cavernous room where a lone figure stood swaying in the center; frightened, lost and confused. 

It was Luke.   
  
"Noah...," Luke's voice sounded so small. He reached out with two cuffed arms.

They let Noah go; his feet found their way to Luke. With his hands still cuffed at the wrist, Noah had to lift his arms over Luke’s head to pull the man into somewhat of an embrace. They fell like that to the straw-strewn floor; each gripping the other’s wrist; faces pressed into chests. 

They made no sound but for the occasional gulped breath. They said nothing; both petrified. They were simply a mass of skin and muscle and clothing; shivering and amazed by some chance that found them here; back in each other’s arms. 

_I’ll never let you go again! Never!_

“Well Luciano,” a man’s accented voice faded vaguely through Noah’s consciousness. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, my son…”


	10. Chapter 10

**Arlington, Texas, Vicinity of Baldwin Junior High, 2019**  
  
"This is _so_ risky, Luke!"  
  
As if to mock them, two police cruisers with sirens blaring raced passed the van.  
  
"I know," Luke replied, watching the cop cars vanish round a corner. "But what choice do we have? Leo's our Achilles' heel, Noah. He has been from the day we decided to take him with us."  
  
As they parked up one mile from the school, Noah mused on how unfair their life was. He often wondered what their lives would have been like if Damian had never broken them free.  
  
At the time, after tasting what separation felt like, running definitely seemed the more attractive option. If they'd stopped to think for just a moment, putting aside their terror; they may have realized that the very act of running only served to seal their guilt in the eyes of the world.  
  
But as Noah's thoughts processed this, he knew that running was their only option. He was pretty certain neither of them would have survived passed one month in prison. A whispered word in the ear of the right prisoner; and they'd have felt what it was like to drown in their own blood.  
  
In the beginning, Noah suffered night terrors dreaming of this scenario; Luke's lifeless corpse lying in a pool of blood. As time past and the heat subsided, the nightmares quelled somewhat. But the fear was always there in the back of his mind.  
  
He'd sometimes catch Luke's eye; seeing that anxiety reflected back. He knew for certain that whatever he was feeling, Luke felt it, too.  
  
Sometimes Noah failed to recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. The whole situation, a conspiracy that decreed he and Luke were expendable, had seen Noah do things so incredibly counter-character, it made him physically sick sometimes.  
  
But he knew that ultimately there was _nothing_ he wouldn't do to protect his family. Lie, steal, use people… kill…  
  
Taking another person's life was the very last thing Noah ever wanted to do. And, by some grace, things had never come to that. But Noah knew, without a doubt, he was willing to go that far if he had to... if pushed.  
  
 _Just as the people, who set us up, are willing to do anything to protect their dirty little secret._  
  
"Noah… you with me, Bubby?"  
  
Noah blinked and wondered how long Luke had been trying to get his attention. He nodded in response before checking his watch.  
  
"I'm sure all those cop cars flying around are for us." Luke said, scanning the road.  
  
"You can count on it!" Noah agreed. "They must know by now."  
  
Luke's throat pulsed. "They'll be all over town."  
  
Noah nodded. "We just have to hope they've yet to find out about Leo."  
  
"What if they have?"  
  
Noah weaved his fingers across Luke's face and through his hair. "Then I'll have to fight them, Baby. You were right before. They've taken everything else from us… I won't let them take Leo."  
  
"It's crunch time, isn't it?" Luke asked, eyes welling up.  
  
Noah hugged him; and they shared a long kiss that communicated everything.  
  
…  
  
High School Principle Norman Brite was exactly one year, four days and seven hours from retirement. It seemed wholly unfair that if not for changes in government policy, Norman already would be enjoying his retirement; perfecting his fishing hobby and putting his feet up.  
  
But only one year before he was due to wave his teaching career goodbye with a fond farewell, somebody on Capitol Hill decided, in their infinite wisdom, that 67 was a much more realistic age at which to retire.  
  
As a result, Norman was bitter, morose and thoroughly uninspired. He was eternally behind on his to-do list; late for most board meetings and refused to help staff supervise sporting events.  
  
 _Why the hell should I?_  
  
And over the years, the kids had changed, too. With instant access to so many forms of media and technology, children were, as far as Norman was concerned, "too damn clever for their own good."  
  
They thought they already knew everything there was to learn. So why bother with boring schooling; still using an archaic system that could do nothing for brains demanding constant stimuli and entertainment.  
  
Norman was tired. Too tired to come up with solutions to the modern day problems facing the American Public School System. And definitely too tired to deal with his wide-eyed administration team, standing around him in a small circle in the school's main lobby.  
  
Norman was still struggling to comprehend the phone conversation he'd just had with Arlington's police chief. The man he'd had sitting in his office only hours before was none other than Luke Snyder, an escaped convict wanted for mass murder back in Illinois.  
  
Needing to share the information with somebody, Norman wasted no time informing his front office staff; preparing them for whatever might happen.  
  
He wondered about the boy. Leo Sutherland's presence in the school had been nothing but a headache from the start. The very idea... gay parents in Texas! It was a disaster waiting to happen for sure. It wasn't that Norman didn't feel for the kid. It wasn't his fault he was stuck in such a shitty position. His parents' made their own choices.  
  
 _Where did they get the boy?_  
  
He was just wondering whether either man was even the boy's biological parent, when the office door opened and he was staring into startlingly blue eyes he's only ever seen on one other person… Leo Sutherland. All doubts melted away.  
  
The three school secretaries ceased their chatter and gasped; maneuvering behind him. The atmosphere turned thick.  
  
 _Why me? Of all the schools, why mine?_  
  
Norman felt his face harden, as anger boiled at the audacity of this man strolling into Norman's school like he was just another parent. Strangely Norman didn't feel fear; only an odd sense of resolve. He drew on years of experience dealing with difficult, sometimes even violent students and/or their parents.  
  
Something on Norman's face stilled the man before him. For a moment, Norman felt he had the upper hand. But then Mayer lifted his shirt allowing those in the room to catch a glimpse of a gun stowed in the band of his jeans.  
  
One of the women squeaked and started crying.  
  
"I'm here to pick up Leo Sutherland," Noah coolly said.  
  
Nobody spoke for a while. Norman could feel the women watching him expectantly.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Um… I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that…"  
  
The man smiled, showing sharp bicuspids. Norman was sure he saw a flash of admiration cross Mayer's dark features.  
  
"That wasn't a request," Noah said softly. "I'm here for my son." When no one moved, he added a louder demand. "Now!"  
  
Noah's hand found the gun handle, but he didn't draw it; simply rested his fingers there.  
  
Norman understood the threat for what it was. But he had a sworn duty to protect the children in his care, even the back-chatting little shits. "Why don't you just leave your son and go? Why drag him down with you?"  
  
Blue eyes glared cold at him, as though Noah was deciding whether or not to answer the question. "Don't you dare judge me, Brite! You don't have all the facts..."  
  
"The fact is you're a murderer and he's better off without you."  
  
That hurt. The brunette faltered slightly.  
  
But it didn't last long. He straightened his tall frame. "I've never killed a single person in my life, Mr. Brite. But trust me now. I will do _anything_ to leave here with my son. _Anything_!"  
  
 _I believe you._  
  
"Mrs. Lucas, I believe Leo should be in Biology right now," He calmly ordered. "Please contact the class and have him sent to the main office."  
  
When there was no movement from behind him, he repeated, "Mrs. Lucas!"  
  
"But…," somebody squeaked.  
  
"Now!" he commanded.  
  
A small shivering woman broke away from the group and reluctantly shuffled over to the counter. She stretched out her arm to grab the phone; eyes never once leaving the gunman standing near the door.  
  
"Be very careful what you say," Noah warned and she nodded nervously.  
  
…  
  
There was no question about who would go into the school to collect Leo. No words were needed. Noah was just so much better at keeping his emotions in check than Luke.  
  
Luke hated to admit it. But over the years, forced as they were into a difficult situation, as sweet and kind and loving as Noah was, Luke had come to recognize a darkness within him.  
  
It was a glaring difference between the two of them. Raised by a military tyrant to behave like a soldier; Noah could kill if needed. Luke wasn't so sure about himself.  
  
 _Come on guys! Where are you?_  
  
Fifteen minutes had passed since Noah left Luke in the van with the engine running, parked down a side road looking out over the school's two large athletic fields. Luke kept glancing over the expanse of grass, hoping to see two specks making their way toward him.  
  
He shook his head, thinking about how quickly things could change. Only last week they'd been right here, watching Leo play ball just like any other family.  
  
Now Luke realized just how comfortable they'd become.  
  
Sutherland was supposed to be just a temporary alias. Every year Damian would send new identities to an untraceable post office box in Georgetown. They were under strict instruction to assume new names annually, but they never did.  
  
Leo changed all that. Once they managed to register him as Leo Sutherland (not an easy feat in itself), how could they possibly change it again? Not only were children terrible liars, but there was simply no way they could put that kind of pressure on Leo.  
  
So Leo Neely became Leo Sutherland permanently. They learned of his real name from the Amber Alert issued after they snatched him. Named after his mother's favorite movie star, at three years old it was the name the boy responded to. They had no choice but to risk keeping it.  
  
Luke trembled as they considered what all this meant for Leo. To find out his whole existence was built on a foundation of sand. And the sand was sinking fast.  
  
 _How will he ever forgive us?_  
  
They'd lied to him. They'd _had_ to. But they were supposed to be the two people he could trust and rely on the most.  
  
Luke sat on his hands in an effort to stop his fingers from fidgeting.  
  
 _They're taking too long!_  
  
In the far distance, he could see the main circular drive at the front of the school. He jumped so high with fright his head hit the roof of the van.  
  
Parked in the drive were three police cruises with their lights flashing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Rio Grande Forest, Colorado, 2010**  
  
Luke purchased the derelict cabin in Gunnison through a real estate agent, using one of Damian's many fake IDs. He paid the full asking price of $45,000 and told the uninterested sales rep that he was Darren Holmes, a writer who intended to stay over winter to finish his book.  
  
That seemed a plausible enough story and unlikely to raise any suspicions.  
  
They avoided being seen together in the towns that flanked the thick forests of the Rio Grande. One would go into a store while the other remained in the van with the baby; staying out of sight.  
  
They purchased enough supplies and building materials to last them through two winters because Noah wanted to avoid having to make unnecessary trips into town.  
  
It was better that the locals simply forgot about the strangers, seemingly unconnected who just happened in one day.  
  
It was in Noah's nature to always be prepared; to pre-plan, organize.  
  
The cabin was set far away up in the hills; in as remote an area as it was possible to get. The roads were almost impassable and kept clear more by herds of cattle and deer than by any form of vehicle.  
  
But somehow the van made it there.  
  
When they first arrived at the cabin, their hearts sank. The one-room wooden structure was more neglected than they'd expected; riddled with a leaky roof and freezing drafts that meant a few nights were spent sleeping in the van.  
  
They worked tirelessly for a month fixing the place up; installing new windows and doors and waterproofing the roof.  
  
Luke, who spent his childhood bemoaning his chores on Snyder farm suddenly found himself grateful for another of the many things his adoptive father, Holden, taught him.  
  
They finished up just in time for the cold to arrive and hem them in to what became a cosy haven, at least for a little while.  
  
There was no electricity. The only heat came from a small fireplace in the tiny living area and kitchenette. For food, they would fish and set a few small rabbit traps; keeping dry stock in the cupboards flanking the walls.  
  
Firelight danced on one side of Noah's face where he sat, knees bent, across the lone floral sofa. It was old and battered; discovered in a junk yard on their way out of town.  
  
But it served its purpose.  
  
In the crook of his arm, chubby fingers pawing at the book Noah read to him, sat Leo; fascinated not so much by the subject as by the soothing tone of Noah's voice.  
  
Luke stood listening in; enjoying the rare scene of contentment as the fire crackled merrily.  
  
"Rabbit look up, she looked mighty wild," Noah read. "Dog took after 'er and they run for miles."  
  
Leo peered up at Noah, reaching up to touch Noah's chin as it moved.  
  
"Rabbit look up, she looked might brown," Noah smiled down at Leo kissing the child's fingers; wonderment in his eyes.  
  
Luke still couldn't quite believe it. Noah was a father. It was incredible and terrifying and beautiful all at the same time. It made his vision blur.  
  
Noah noticed Luke standing there and smiled at him. Luke's breath caught in the back of his throat.  
  
 _God, I love you._  
  
Noah dropped his gaze to continue reading. "Said yes, by ned, I can out run a hound."  
  
Leo burrowed into Noah's chest; yawning, little eyes struggling to stay open. The heat and flickering light from the fire was an excellent way to lull a child to sleep, they'd discovered.  
  
"Rabbit looked up, she looked might po', said yes by ned I'm a headin' for my hole." Noah's voice dropped as the child drifted off. But Luke sensed a change in his mood. Noah's voice was now a sullen whisper, "Run, little rabbit run, run, run. Yon' comes a man with big shotgun." It was only when two tear drops bounced down Noah's face that Luke realised the man was crying, "Run, run little rabbit, run."  
  
"Bubby?" Luke asked softly.  
  
Noah didn't look up; just shook his head from side to side.  
  
Gently Luke took the child from him. "Come on, Son. Time for bed."  
  
He left Noah to place Leo in his cot, taking time to carefully cover him in blankets and make sure he was warm enough.  
  
When he returned, Noah was sitting hunched over with his face hidden in both hands.  
  
Without saying anything, Luke sidled in beside Noah and held him, stroking his hair. He understood that this time the tears had little to do with the upset in their lives and all to do with the death of Noah's father, Colonel Winston Mayer.  
  
It was about time too. Noah had been hording his grief for so long Luke had begun to worry about it. It was as though Noah felt guilty for feeling anything for the man who'd so abandoned him.  
  
Luke kissed Noah's tear-streaked cheeks, humming a nonsense tune to soothe him; letting Noah know it was okay to cry. Luke didn't need him to be the strong one all the time. Luke was there to support him, too.  
  
He waited for Noah to empty the pain; weep for a man, who certainly didn't deserve the love his son held for him. And then Luke gave himself to Noah; as he always would, for as long as Noah needed him.  
  
They were connected before, but now they were bound by things far stronger; a situation beyond their control; a child who needed them; and the truth. In their manufactured world, Noah was the only person who knew Luke's true identity and vice versa.  
  
Noah was now such an intrinsic part of his world, Luke wondered whether it would actually keep spinning, if Noah ceased to exist.  
  
Luke shivered at the thought and that made Noah pause in his movements. He arched up to stare down at Luke.  
  
"What is it?" he breathily asked, face flushed with desire. "Did I hurt you?"  
  
Luke teased Noah's hair away from his eyes and shook his head. "No," he groaned as Noah shifted slightly and a bolt of pleasure rushed over him. "No, I'm good. Don't stop… Feels amazing…"  
  
"I love you so much, Luke," Noah gulped. "Do I tell you? I mean… do I tell you enough?"  
  
Luke smiled, lifting up on his elbows to capture Noah's lips with his own. "All the time… every day… you don't even have to say it, Bubby. I know by the way you look at me... the way you touch me..." He scratched a nail below one of Noah's nipples. Lightly, barely touching, Luke drew the nail upward, downward, circling, feeling the tiny nib rise hard and Noah gasp. "But right now I want you to show me."  
  
Noah's eyes darkened as he pushed Luke's legs further back and slowly, deeply, rocked them both through to completion; occasionally latching with teeth to the hollow of Luke's neck.  
  
Noah's arms went tight around Luke and the heat of him; combined with the fire; engulfed Luke like the breath of a dragon.  
  
"You kill me Luke…" he whispered, face buried in Luke's hair.  
  
Luke palmed at Noah's warm shoulder, fingers trailing up the back of his neck. Noah shivered above him.  
  
"Sometimes," Luke whispered back. "I wish I could keep you inside me. I wish I could take you with me and keep you safe, always.  
  
Noah shifted sideways onto one elbow; lifting himself up from the folds of the sofa so he could rest his head in one hand and look down at Luke. "Being with you is the only time I ever do feel safe."  
  
Serenaded by they crackling fire combining with the night-time tunes of the forest, Luke turned his face to the warmth of Noah's naked chest, clinging tightly to his solidness.  
  
Noah smelt rumpled with sex and shed tears and his own unique sleepiness. It was comforting. Luke pulled Noah's head down; and they arranged themselves on the sofa, listening to each other's breathing mingle with the rustling of forest leaves, until they fell into a satisfied sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Arlington, Texas, Baldwin Junior High, 2019**  
  
As Leo retrieved his book bag from his locker, he wracked his brain trying to work out what he'd done to prompt a call to the principal's office.  
  
Again!  
  
 _Two days in a row! Pop's gonna flip!_  
  
He slammed the locker closed and twiddled the dial on the lock; sighing at the words FAG FRY written in pink paint across the door.  
  
Two weeks previously, when he first discovered the vandalism, he made a formal complaint to Mr. Brite.  
  
" _Stop drawing so much attention to yourself, Sutherland; and you won't give them any cause to attack you."_  
  
Leo wondered whether the school would even make the effort to remove the insult from the locker or whether he'd be made to stare at it day in and day out. He suspected the latter.  
  
As he turned the corner into the administration wing, he almost jumped a foot in the air to see his father through the small window in the door, talking to Mr. Brite.  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
Whatever he'd done this time, it was pretty bad if his dad had been called in.  
  
"Hi Dad," he innocently sang as he pushed through the heavy door.  
  
It didn't take him long to notice the strange and thick tension in the air nor the way everybody stared silently at him. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.  
  
"Um…" he muttered. "Afternoon, Mr. Brite."  
  
 _Can't hurt to suck up a little._  
  
His father was looking at him in a way he'd never known before. "Hey, Leo."  
  
"What's going on?" Leo asked, feeling instantly uneasy. "Is Pop okay?"  
  
"Yes," his father replied dryly. "He's just fine, Kid. You ready?"  
  
"I guess." Leo shrugged, pulling his backpack over his shoulder. "Where are we going?"  
  
His father smiled in what Leo suspected was meant as reassurance. But there was no confidence behind it and Leo's stomach unexplainably flipped.  
  
"We need to leave now," his father told him.  
  
"Don't do this!" Mr. Brite took a few steps toward them. "He doesn't need to be involved in all this."  
  
"Stay out of it!" His father growled back.   
  
Leo jumped at the unfamiliar tone while examining the look on the faces in the room. For the first time he recognized what he saw.  
  
 _They're afraid…_  
  
"Dad?" he asked again, cautiously this time. "What's going on?"  
  
"It's too late! Can't you see that?" Mr. Brite continued, ignoring Leo's question. "They just called me not 15 minutes ago! They _know_ about the boy!"  
  
Leo looked up just in time to catch his father's stoic demeanor falter.  
  
Mr. Brite stared forcibly at his dad. "You won't get 5 miles from the school… and he'll be right in the line of fire…"  
  
Leo didn't like the way Mr. Brite pointed right at him.  
  
"Line of fire?" he whispered.  
  
"That's enough!" his father warned, taking hold of Leo by his shoulders and backing them both out of the room. "Come on, Leo. Time to go..."  
  
The door closed behind them and Leo found himself following Noah hurriedly toward the main school entrance, flanked by two large swing doors. His father was about to push down on the metal exit bar, when three police cruisers skidded along the circular drive out front.  
  
"Hey," Leo wondered aloud, "...what are they doing he-…?"  
  
He was yanked by the collar to the left before he could finish his sentence; stumbling at his father's efforts to drag him down an alternative corridor.  
  
"Dad? What the…?"  
  
"Shut up and run!"  
  
Realizing he wasn't going to get a fast answer, he followed behind as best he could; struggling to keep up with his father's wide strides.  
  
His eyes widened in disbelief when something glinted in his old man's right hand. He feet slowed. "Dad? Is that a gun? Why… why do you have a gun?"  
  
"Keep moving!" His father barked back, eyes constantly darting behind them. "I'll explain everything later!"  
  
They burst through a side door and out onto the basketball courts; eyes forced to quickly adjust to the sudden hot sunlight.  
  
Leo had never seen his dad so out of control. His pop was usually the one to overact and get all emotional about stuff. Seeing his dad in this state upset Leo now more than anything. But he kept going.  
  
Leo was physically fit; naturally athletic and active. But even _he_ was flagging by the time they reached the end of the second football field.  
  
"Dad…" he gasped, stopping to bend over his knees and struggling to draw oxygen into his burning lungs. "I can't… anymore…"  
  
"Just up this grass bank, Son," Noah yelled over his shoulder, already halfway up himself. "We're almost there!"  
  
As they cleared the top of the hill, sweat dripping from both of them, Leo spotted his pop behind the wheel of a strange white van. The engine was running and he could tell his pop was relieved to see them. Luke's eyes were wide and he kept looking toward where the cop cars were parked in the distance outside the school entrance.  
  
"Get in, get in!" Luke desperately cried; leaning over the driver seat to fling the door open for Noah.  
  
"Whose van is this?" Leo asked, fearfully approaching the vehicle. He looked back over his shoulder and watched one of the police cruisers pull out of the school drive. "Are we in trouble with the cops?"  
  
He kept his distance from Noah, who was flinging open the van's sliding door.  
  
"Noah hurry!" Luke yelled. "They're coming!"  
  
Leo peered into the back of the van. It was one of those windowless ones, brimming with supplies. His heart sank.  
  
"We're moving again," his voice cracked. "Aren't we?"  
  
"Dammit, Leo!" Noah shouted. "We don't have time for this! Get in the damn car, now!"  
  
"No!" Leo yelled back obstinately. "No! You promised! You said we wouldn't have to move again for a long time!"  
  
Leo stood his ground; arms folded; face in a frown.  
  
"I know. And I'm so sorry. You don't know how sorry I am. But we don't have any other option here, Kid… so get in!"  
  
"I'm not moving until you tell me what's going on! Why do you have a gun?"  
  
"Oh God, Leo!" Luke panicked. "Please, Baby, please get in…"  
  
"Fuck this!" Noah moved forward so quickly Leo barely had the time to blink. His father inserted the gun in his jeans and locked Leo in a stronghold, pulling him back toward the van.  
  
"No!" Leo yelled, crying now; kicking and screaming in anger and hurt. These were not his parents. He wanted his proper parents back. "You guys are scaring me!"  
  
Noah released him at that. Leo turned quickly to face him, hands balled in tight fists at his sides; determined to win this argument. But for the first time he saw just how devastated his father was.  
  
Noah held up both his hands and took two steps back. "Okay, okay... You're right. I know this must all be very confusing for you right now. I know you're scared. But... Leo... those cops think Pop and me did something we didn't and if they catch up... they'll kill us."  
  
Leo felt his insides plummet.  
  
 _Kill you?_  
  
"Noah, they're coming…" Luke gritted in warning.  
  
But Noah kept his eyes glued on Leo, holding up one hand toward Luke to signal he should wait.  
  
"I won't force you, so… right now you have two choices." Noah took a deep breath, "Either you stay and we die or you trust us enough to get in the van and wait for us to explain everything to you later. It's your choice. But, Son, we are running out of time…"  
  
Leo looked between his two fathers and back toward the entrance to the school. The police cruiser had just turned in at the top of the road.  
  
He didn't have a clue what was happening. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. But his parents loved him. It was the one thing he _was_ sure of. So he huffed, wiggled his backpack off; and leapt into the back of the van, shuddering as Noah slammed it shut.  
  
Noah was quick into the driver seat and swung the van around, heading away in the opposite direction of the approaching police.  
  
Luke bent to peer into the side mirror. "They're right behind us."  
  
"Stay calm, Baby. We don't know if they came this way because of the van."  
  
But just as he spoke the siren sounded.  
  
"Jesus!" Luke slunk back in the seat.  
  
"Quick, hide in the back with Leo," Noah instructed.  
  
"What?" Luke almost screamed.  
  
"If we floor it they'll catch us for sure. We're gonna have to take a chance the police on the ground don't know about me yet. It's you they'll have a description of."  
  
"That's a pretty big gamble, Bubby!"  
  
"Look, the van will check out. I made sure of that. I have the correct fake ID and they're looking for my Dodge and your Mustang. Not some random white van. We _have_ to chance it."  
  
Leo watched as Luke considered this for a minute, then he leaned over and kissed Noah's cheek. "I trust you."  
  
Noah swallowed and nodded, waiting for Luke and Leo to be well hidden amidst the supplies in the back of the van before pulling over.  
  
Usually when Luke put his arm around Leo, Leo would shrug him off with an embarrassed, "Awe, Pop…" But this time when Luke's arm pulled him close he snuggled into his father's comforting embrace.  
  
The atmosphere was thick with fear. He heard Noah taking deep breaths; heard the tap at the window; and the screech as Noah manually wound it down.  
  
"Afternoon Officer. Did I do something wrong?"  
  
There was a moment of silence before a woman's voice responded. "Just a routine check, Sir. May I see your license and registration please?"  
  
Leo felt his pop's breath quicken as Noah leaned over the central console to open the glove box.  
  
Noah retrieved the documentation and handed it through the window.  
  
"You from Richmond Hills, Mr. Herman?"  
  
"That's right. Took a wrong turn earlier. Just pulled into this road to check my map."  
  
"I see," the voice replied. "Just one moment, please."  
  
There was an agonizingly long wait.  
  
"What's going on?" Luke whispered.  
  
Noah checked his side-view mirror. "I don't know. She's talking to her partner."  
  
"Noah…"  
  
Leo looked up to find that Luke was crying. His heart beat faster.  
  
"Relax," Noah replied in a soothing tone. "Everything will check out. The van matches the name and address on the license." He checked the mirror again. "Shh, she's coming back."  
  
The cop's hand reappeared through the window, passing the documents back to Noah. "Thank you for your time, Sir. We have an incident at the school. We saw your van and it was necessary to check it out."  
  
Luke's hold on Leo tightened.  
  
"Not at all," Noah told the officer. "I understand."  
  
"Okay. Well, have a good day."  
  
"And to you." Noah stared into his mirror, watching the cop walk away.  
  
They heard the police car start up behind the van and drive off, before drawing a collective breath.  
  
"They're gone," Noah croaked.  
  
Luke kissed Leo's temple and rejoined Noah in the front of the van. Noah was already on the move again.  
  
Nothing was said for miles. Leo sat on the floor at the back of the van, looking from one father to the other, waiting for the anxiety to dissipate enough to get his answers.  
  
When he spoke, it was through a wobbling voice, tears falling. "Would you actually use that gun, Dad?" he gasped. "Please tell me what's happening…"  
  
His fathers shared one of their fathomless looks.  
  
"Yes," Noah replied, eyes once again turning to the road. "If I have to… I'll use the gun."  
  
Leo sobbed. His life had somehow turned into one of those action movies he loved to watch.  
  
"We wanted you to have more time…" Luke tried to explain.  
  
"We wanted you to enjoy being a kid but…" Noah paused, gathering himself and Luke squeezed his hand. "You have to know now. You have to know everything."


	13. Chapter 13

**Oakdale, Illinois, George S. Patton Army Base, 2008**  
  
The Robert Taft Building once served as a storage facility for fertilizer, until it was purchased by the government to serve as a military research center tacked onto the extensive training grounds of the existing George S. Patton Army Base.  
  
As a result, the manicured lawn and annual coat of paint did relatively little to distract from the basic ugliness of the warehouse-style structure.  
  
Luke was running late, which in itself wasn't unusual. Only this time his lateness was partly deliberate. It had taken him all morning to convince himself that coming here was a good idea.  
  
 _Come on, Luke! Noah needs this…_  
  
As he drove up to the main security boom-gate, he was surprised when the guard on duty took a quick look at him and waived him right on in. The senator must have informed the gate of Luke's imminent arrival.  
  
He followed the signs for Visitor Parking and immediately spotted Noah's truck, parked up under the shade of a sprawling oak tree. There were only three other vehicles parked in the lot.  
  
 _Slow day._  
  
As his car beeped locked, Luke felt his pulse unexplainably quicken. He was less than convinced that this was going to work; not to mention more than a little suspicious.  
  
Why would the conservative Senator Marsden, expected to some day become a Republican presidential candidate; fly halfway across the country to help a gay teenager reunited with his father?  
  
Expecially when the lawmaker was known to have a somewhat questionable stance on homosexuality.  
  
As much as Noah explained how Marsden was the Colonel's best friend; how they served together in combat; and how Noah had known the man since birth, Luke remained unconvinced.  
  
Something just didn't smell right.  
  
Still, he couldn't let Noah down. They'd only been dating a few months, but already Luke knew he'd found the love of his life. Hell, even his family had fallen for Noah's charm. There was only one thing holding Noah back from being truly happy within himself; and that was how the colonel's reacted when he first discovered his son was gay.  
  
…  
  
 **Oakdale, Illinois, WOAK, 2007**  
  
Luke searched the counters and table tops for the video tapes his boss, Kim, requested for that evening's news broadcast. The offices of WOAK were busy that day; and he wondered what was keeping Noah and Maddie. They might only be interns. But it was still important to give a good impression, if they wanted to walk away with decent references.  
  
"Hey Luke, think fast!"  
  
Luke blinked just in time to see the orange Noah threw his way. He caught it without a problem and smiled. "You're in a good mood."  
  
Luke could tell right away. This was the Noah Mayer he first met, a geeky film studies student at Oakdale University, eyes sparkling in that special way of his. This was the Noah from before Col. Winston Mayer arrived to announce he'd been transferred to Patton. The Noah from before they kissed; and Noah's girlfriend, Maddie, found out.  
  
"Yeah, feels good for a change."  
  
"Why?" Luke asked, teasing Noah by pretending to throw the orange back but holding onto it instead. "What happened?  
  
"Why did something have to happen?" Noah asked.  
  
"Because I haven't seen you like _this..._ " Luke replied, this time chucking the orange right into Noah's hands, "...in a long time."  
  
Noah looked sheepish; adorable actually as he toyed with the fruit. "Would you think I was a horrible person, if I told you that my dad just left town; and I'm suddenly really, really happy?"  
  
Luke could understand that. He'd watched how the arrival of Noah's dad in Oakdale turned the relaxed, fun-loving guy, whom Luke had secretly fallen for, into a scared little boy, terrified that an unexpected kiss he shared with Luke would result in him losing his only family. It had already caused their friendships with Maddie some considerable damage.  
  
And as far as Luke could tell, Noah had a reason to worry. He didn't get the impression the colonel would be that receptive to the news that his son was gay. It was perfectly understandable why Noah tried so hard to deny the truth, even to himself.  
  
 _Doesn't hurt any less though…_  
  
Luke was so busy musing this over, it took him a while before he realized what Noah was busy telling him. Maddie, temporarily putting aside her own upset at having discovered Noah's deception, stepped in to rescue Noah from his father's persistent questions by pretending they were still a couple. The colonel left town on his trip convinced that when he returned it would be to his perfectly straight son.  
  
Luke spotted the tapes he was looking for; and grabbed them off the table; before heading for the back office to hide his irritation from Noah.  
  
"So your dad thinks you and Maddie are back together again…" It wasn't a question.  
  
Noah followed him. "I didn't mean to lie to him and, I swear, when he comes back I'll straighten everything out."  
  
Luke re-filed the tapes and turned just in time to soften, when he saw the look of relief on Noah's face.  
  
"But when Maddie told me to just let him go, I suddenly felt this weight lift off me. It's like I can breathe again! And I can be... I don't know…"  
  
Luke couldn't help smiling out the corner of his mouth. "…yourself?"  
  
"Yeah," Noah sighed wistfully, sadness starting to float back in. "I wish I could feel like this all the time."  
  
"Well, you can…" Luke reassuringly told him. "…and I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. But… once your dad does come back and… if you do decide to come out to him, this… this feeling… this freedom… just… not hiding… That will be normal."  
  
Luke held his breath. Usually at this point, Noah would head for the door in response to Luke having pushed those buttons deep inside, Noah didn't like touched; issues he didn't want to face.  
  
But to Luke's surprise, Noah closed the physical gap between them, moving to stand even closer. Luke could feel the heat from the guy's body and smell his after shave. He felt his heart rate elevating; his breath shortening…  
  
"I owe you." Noah's gaze on him was firm and focused. So intense, Luke had to look away or he'd grab the boy and kiss him into the next week.  
  
"Ag… no you don't…" Luke stumbled. "Um…" He looked around for an escape. "Look… look I gotta study for this Lit exam that…"  
  
As Luke turned to grab his books, Noah's hand shot out to encircle his wrist. Luke turned his eyes back to meet the deep blue of Noah's and felt himself melting.  
  
 _Oh Jesus yes! He's gonna kiss me again. Yes! Please, please kiss me!_  
  
When Noah made his move, Luke was more than ready. He pulled the brunette's head down to his; desperate to feel those soft lips he'd dreamed about since the first time Noah kissed him like this.  
  
His head felt lighter than air; the world around them dissolved away. So much so they only just heard the gasp from the office door. Otherwise they may not have stopped at all.  
  
Colonel Mayer stood in wide-eyed shock and dismay in the doorway.  
  
Luke jumped wide back from Noah, even though it was already too late.  
  
"Dad!" Noah yelped and Luke cringed at the dread in his voice. "I thought you were out of town?"  
  
His father sagged into the doorway, as though so physically wounded his legs couldn't keep him up. "Oh I wish I was! I'd give anything not to see what I just did!"  
  
The older man shook his graying head. He waited a while before stepping forward toward the devastated Noah.  
  
"Not only am I sickened by your behavior…" he growled. "I'm _appalled_ at your deceit! This is the _worst_ kind of betrayal!"  
  
Luke had to step in. He just had to. He couldn't stand the look of agony on Noah's face one moment longer. "Colonel Mayer…?"  
  
"Shut up you!"  
  
Luke jumped. He had to admit, the colonel knew how to intimidate. Luke could totally imagine this man leading a platoon of soldiers into battle. He couldn't believe this was the only person Noah had in his life to call family. It was no wonder the poor guy was so messed up.  
  
"This is between my son and me!" Winston continued; stamping his authority on the situation.  
  
"Hey guys…" Maddie sang, appearing suddenly at the worst possible moment.  
  
 _Oh no…_  
  
Cheerfully unaware of what had just transpired, she hooked her arm through Noah's to perpetrate the charade that they were dating and innocently asked, "What's going on?"  
  
"Stop it! Stop it with this stupid game!" The colonel was firing venom and Maddie's face fell in shock.  
  
"W…what game?" she asked.  
  
"You're _lying_ to me!" the man was shouting now; anger seeping through every pore. " _All_ of you!"  
  
They waited while Winston fought to control himself, eyes flitting between them all.  
  
"But it's going to stop! Right now!" He glared directly at his son. "How could you _do_ this?"  
  
Luke's heart broke for Noah.  
  
"I... I'm sorry," Noah stammered, on the verge of tears. "The last thing I ever wanted to do was disappoint you."  
  
"I'm more than disappointed, Noah!" his father maintained through his teeth. "You're a coward! You're a liar! You're a…" he almost spat an insult but it died in the back of his throat. He couldn't even say it. He shook his head. "You're not the boy I raised."  
  
"Yes he is!" Luke insisted. He couldn't let the man crush his own son in this way.  
  
"I told you to shut up!"  
  
There was so much Luke wanted to say. He felt anger boiling up inside and he had this overwhelming urge to throw himself in front of Noah and protect him forever. But he knew he'd just make things worse.  
  
"I'm revolted by what you've become," the man continued. He stood looking at Noah with repulsion and finally turned; storming toward the door.  
  
"Dad, please!" Noah begged, running after the man. "Don't go-"  
  
"You're not my son!" Winston Mayer turned quick and spat the words before Noah could even finish the sentence, "Not anymore!"  
  
The colonel was serious. Luke knew that for sure by the way he stared his son down; right in the eye; not once flinching. And then he was gone.  
  
Maddie, who'd remained silent throughout the tirade, moved forward. "Noah… I… I didn't mean to make things worse for you... I didn't know…"  
  
"No," Noah shook his head, ashamed, unable to look at her. "You didn't. Nothing could have been worse than what he just saw."  
  
 _What?_  
  
Luke's heart sank. Was Noah was going to deny them again?  
  
"Right," Maddie said softly. It was clear she didn't agree with that statement at all. But she realised they needed to be alone. "I'm gonna go."  
  
Luke nodded his goodbye and silently thanked her for her amazing understanding. She really was a great friend. She'd handled the whole affair with such dignity; even after being so hurt by it all.  
  
Once she was gone, Luke found himself temporarily speechless; a rare event for him.  
  
He didn't think he could handle Noah rejecting him again, so he tried to make light of the situation. It was his nature to resort to humor when he was nervous. "Well… a… I guess you're sorry you ever met me…"  
  
Unexpectedly, Noah again shook his head. "No. I'm not. I'm just sorry you had to hear all those things he said."  
  
"It's not your fault," Luke assured him.  
  
"I should have stood up to him!" Noah exclaimed in irritation. "He's right… I'm a coward!"  
  
Luke sighed sympathetically. "Look… it's your _dad_. That's hard!"  
  
"You know something?" Noah asked, looking toward his shoes as he considered this. "He's worse than a coward…" He looked up at Luke like he'd just made a revelation. "He's a bigot."  
  
Luke felt terrible. Noah's whole world had just fallen apart; and it was entirely Luke's fault for being impatient. "You told me… you told me you weren't ready to come out. I should have just listened to you… I shouldn't have kissed you…"  
  
"We kissed each other, Luke." Noah's response was quick and Luke's breath hitched. "And I don't regret that. That was the best thing to happen to me in a long time."


	14. Chapter 14

**Oakdale, Illinois, George S. Patton Military Base, 2008**  
  
When Luke invited Noah to live at Snyder Farm, it was because he believed all Noah needed was to feel surrounded by the unconditional love of a real family. Luke was determined to fill the void left by the colonel's rejection that day in WOAK.  
  
And, yes, okay, he'd admit that it also was partly a selfish move. He loved having Noah close to him every day. He was scared sometimes how much he loved it.  
  
It warmed him through to bare witness to the strong bond developing between Noah and Holden. Early one balmy morning, he went to grab a glass of orange juice from the fridge and overheard a conversation they were having outside on the porch.  
  
"...I know I'm a poor substitution for the real thing, Son," Holden was saying, fondness clear in his voice. "But I want you to know that you can come to me, anytime you want. I'm always here for you."  
  
Luke didn't hear Noah's mumbled response. But he knew what that sentiment would have meant to this young man, so starved of love and affection his entire life. From the very beginning Noah held Luke's father in high esteem and treated Holden with the utmost respect.  
  
Then there was Grandma Emma.  
  
The heart and soul of the Snyder family, she was brought to life from a storybook; round and apple-cheeked with cuddles to match. She cooked up a storm and engulfed those around her in an embracing cloud of warmth and love.  
  
But even _her_ constant attention, as much as Noah soaked it up and gobbled down her famous oatmeal raison cookies, wasn't enough.  
  
Luke could tell Noah missed his father terribly.  
  
After Winston left that day in WOAK, Noah tried everything to reconnect with him. Desperate to speak with him, Noah drove over to the army base on so many occasions, Luke lost count. But Winston refused to see his son and ignored all of Noah's pleading phone calls.  
  
Each rejection seemed to hit the poor guy harder than the last, eventually breaking something inside of Noah that Luke felt this strong urge to repair.  
  
So when Senator Charles Marsden arrived in town promising Noah the world as far as this issue was concerned, Luke _had_ to give it a shot... even though being invited over to the base in this open-armed kind of way troubled Luke.  
  
If there was one thing Luke knew for certain, it was that he already disliked the senator before ever having met him. The man was a staunch and outspoken opponent against everything Luke believed in.  
  
Marsden was proudly anti-gay; preaching his views like a priest from a pulpit. He had crazy ideas about how gay relationships de-sanctify and ultimately destroy heterosexual marriage; inevitably leading to polygamy and the downfall of Western Civilization.  
  
 _Blah blah…_  
  
With these thoughts in his head, Luke spotted Noah sitting next to the senator in the facilities' empty main reception area.  
  
 _Where's the receptionist?_  
  
To one side, framed by a pillar, was Marsden's bodyguard. He stood in a black suit and tie; legs forming a solid 'v' shape and hands folded neatly in front. Shades hid the man's eyes, but Luke felt sure they were staring right at him, watching his every move.  
  
 _How very 'Men in Black'…_  
  
"Luke!" Noah waved happily, standing to make his way over.  
  
Smartly dressed in business attire, Marsden smoothly followed. Luke coudn't help thinking of a shark.  
  
Noah hugged Luke before turning, one hand on Luke's upper arm, to introduce the two men. "Senator, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Luke Snyder. Luke, this is Senator Charles Marsden."  
  
"Very pleased to meet you, Senator Marsden. I'm sorry I'm so late." Luke replied, plastering a smile on his face and reaching out his hand.  
  
The senator took it and shook vigorously. "Please, call me Charles. Noah has told me a lot about you, Luke."  
  
"And you…" Luke replied. "He seems to think you can help him with his father?"  
  
"Yes, yes!" The Senator waved that off as though the subject bored him and was of little importance. "We'll get to that!"  
  
That worried feeling Luke was experiencing only intensified. "I'm sorry Senator…"  
  
"It's Charles, please…!" Marsden insisted.  
  
"Charles," Luke said, glaring now. "I'm sorry if I'm being blunt, but you contacted Noah because you thought you could help him repair the rift with Colonel Mayer. Right now, that's the only reason we're here…"  
  
"Luke!" Noah chastised, staring at Luke like he couldn't believe what was coming out of his boyfriend's mouth.  
  
"No, no." The senator smiled. "That's okay, Noah. Luke is entitled to ask." He turned back to Luke, "The colonel is in a very important meeting right now; which means we have some time before we meet with him..."  
  
"And he's agreed to this meeting then, has he?" Luke asked.  
  
"Luke!" Noah said firmly, "Stop it!"  
  
Luke crossed his arms and huffed.  
  
"I understand your anxiety, Luke." Marsden assured him. "But we will resolve everything by the end of the day. You have my word. Right now you two are my very special guests and I'd like to show you around. If you agree."  
  
"That would be great," Noah said, turning to Luke, looking stern and speaking through his teeth, "Wouldn't it, Luke?"  
  
"Peachy!" Luke hissed under his breath.  
  
They left their jackets in the reception and walked with Marsden down a serious of long corridors and closed doors, followed closely by the senator's bodyguard. Luke couldn't help but wonder why everything was so quiet.  
  
 _Where is everybody? Shouldn't there be people working here?_  
  
The bodyguard punched an entry code and pushed open a metal door after it beeped loudly at them.  
  
They entered a practice shooting range; back wall reinforced with a sloped earthen beam and baffles additionally situated along the roof and side walls. A set of four booths crossed the room a quarter of the way down; each one perfectly aligned to a paper target set in the back.  
  
Luke was astonished and wondered at why they'd been brought there. But when he looked over at Noah, he saw a smile forming on the brunette's lips.  
  
"Just like the good old days, hey Noah?" Marsden exclaimed.  
  
Noah nodded, walking into one of the booths and smoothing his hands over the wooden surface.  
  
"Noah and I used to go shooting every Saturday, when Winston was stationed in Fort Bragg. Didn't we, Son?"  
  
"Yes, Sir," Noah replied.  
  
"Noah is quite the shot!" The senator winked.  
  
Luke's mouth gaped open. "You know how to use a gun?"  
  
Noah nodded. "Well yeah…" He grinned at the look on Luke's face. "Duh, Luke! Army brat! Of course I know how to use a weapon!"  
  
"Guess I just never thought about it." Luke shrugged.  
  
"Would you like a go?" Charles asked.  
  
"Who me?" Luke pointed a finger at himself.  
  
"Well yes," Marsden laughed. "I don't need to ask Noah if he wants to."  
  
"Hell yes!" Noah exclaimed gleefully. "It's been too long!""  
  
Garrett?" Marsden nodded at his beefy bodyguard, who turned to a cabinet and removed two handguns, handing one to Noah along with a box of bullets.   
  
As the man stretched his arm out, the cuff of his jacket rode up; revealing a sinister looking snake tattoo coilling around the man's wrist. It gave luke the chills; reminding him of the 'deatheater' symbol in his little sister's Harry Potter books.   
  
But Noah's eyes were sparkling in a way Luke hadn't seen in a while. He suddenly realized Noah felt at home here amongst the stark green and grey of military life. Even the way the senator barked orders and demanded respect appeared to be something familiar and comforting to Noah.  
  
"Come over here, Luke," an excited Noah said, already loading the barrel with bullets.  
  
"I don't know, Noah. I'm more a lover than a fighter…"  
  
Noah snorted with a sideways grin. "Idiot… come closer…"  
  
An uncertain Luke moved forward.  
  
Noah laughed. "Don't look so worried. Stand here."  
  
Luke squeezed passed Noah to stand inside the booth, looking out at the black full-body paper targets in the distance. Noah stood close behind him and Luke had to admit the position felt good; sexy even.  
  
Luke settled himself between Noah's arms while Noah handed him a pair of plastic goggles to wear.  
  
"There," he said with a smile in his voice, as soon as Luke donned the eye-wear. "Now you look like a bug…"  
  
"Well..." Luke responded. "...we can't all be as cute as you, now can we?"  
  
Luke was rewarded with a bright smile that warmed him through.  
  
"This here is your safety," Noah explained over the back of Luke's shoulder; flipping the switch on the side of the gun back and forth. "On, off, on, off… Got it?"  
  
Luke nodded, taking hold of the gun handle as Noah slipped it in his hands. He was surprised by the weight of it, stretching out his arms and bobbing them up and down a little to get used to the feel of the gun.  
  
"Okay, hold the barrel in your palm… That's it… Close one eye and look through the sight until you see your target. Then squeeze the trigger, when you're ready."  
  
Luke felt Noah slip a pair of headphones over his ears. It was a strange sensation, like being sealed off from the world.  
  
Something about having the gun in his hands made his heart thumb hard in his chest. He could hear the muffled voices, as Noah said something to Marsden and the senator responded.  
  
He briefly turned around; and caught a look on Marsden's face that made him feel a little cold. It was a mixture of disgust, but also a lot of what might have been regret.  
  
 _Regret for what?_  
  
His brain released a shiver down his spine. But he ignored this to take a deep breath and turned back to the job at hand; positioning the sight where he thought it would hit and eventually pulling the trigger.  
  
The kick shocked him, flinging him backward. But Noah expected it and was standing solidly behind him.  
  
Luke caught his breath for a moment, leaning back into Noah's warm body. Then he removed the earmuffs and whooped. "That was awesome!"  
  
He turned in Noah's arms to find the boy grinning madly at him. "I know! Right?"  
  
"Well done Luke!" Marsden clapped. "It's a kill shot!"  
  
They all looked over to find the target had moved forward, allowing them to see where the bullet had pierced the area of the heart.  
  
"You're a natural!" Noah smiled, slapping Luke on the back.  
  
Despite his doubts, Luke found himself grinning. "Or it's first time luck!"  
  
After a few more goes under Noah's instruction, Luke quickly got the hang of it. They spent 30 minutes shooting individually before Marsden suggested they try different weapons.  
  
Luke had to admit that target shooting was fun. He never realized how enjoyable it could be. He was just reloading 15 minutes later, when he noticed that he and Noah were alone. He waited for Noah to empty his round and then tapped him lightly on the shoulder.  
  
"Hey!" Noah smiled, removing his headgear. "Still having fun?"  
  
"Yeah," Luke replied, smiling seductively. "You look totally hot with a gun by the way…"  
  
Noah blushed and smiled shyly, bending his long neck down to grab a kiss from Luke.  
  
"Where did the senator go?" Luke asked once they broke for air.  
  
Noah looked around and shrugged. "I'm sure he'll be back. Maybe he had to take a call or something."  
  
"Yeah… maybe…"  
  
Luke must have sounded as unconvinced as he felt because a worried Noah looked at him. "Are you okay?"  
  
Luke shrugged. "I guess… It's just… something doesn't fit."  
  
"Doesn't fit?"  
  
Luke shook his head. "Never mind… I'm sure it's-"  
  
A huge explosion shook the building so hard, both young men stumbled into the corner of the room; impacting hard against the concrete wall. For a moment, completely disoriented, they were so utterly tangled Luke couldn't work out where Noah ended and he began. They clung to each other to get back to their feet.  
  
"What the hell?" Noah exclaimed.  
  
"What happened?" Luke asked him, fighting a flittering sensation in his stomach.  
  
Noah ran to open the door. He pressed the exit button, but it remained locked. Noah hammered his fists on it.  
  
"Hey!" he yelled again, hoping somebody was on the other side. "We're locked in!"  
  
"What's going on?" Luke asked, feeling trepidation take hold.  
  
"I don't know," Noah replied.  
  
They locked concerned eyes for a second, before the lights went out with a loud-echoing click.  
  
They listened to the sound of the air-conditioning fans grinding to a halt. Soon all they could hear was their own heavy breathing.  
  
Then they started to smell the smoke.  
  
"Noah…?" Luke was scared.  
  
"I know…"  
  
They were whispering and Luke had a misplaced thought at how stupid that was. They were on a US military base in Oakdale for Christ's sake! This wasn't Basra! Most likely it was just a power outage.  
  
 _Then what was that bang? And why all the smoke?_  
  
"Luke," Noah called as though he'd suddenly hit on an idea. "The power's out…"  
  
"I hadn't noticed…" Luke replied sarcastically.  
  
He heard Noah huff in irritation. "No, idiot!"  
  
There was a click and then Luke caught on. No power meant no electronics, and Noah was able to fling the door open.  
  
They both exploded into a fit of coughing as acrid smoke flooded the room.  
  
"Come on!" Noah's hand grabbed for Luke in the dark, missing at first; just brushing his chest and then grabbing Luke's shirt in a fist. "Keep low and stay close!"  
  
For a while, he stumbled blindly behind Noah, assuming Noah knew what he was doing. But eventually he had to make sure. "Noah, where are we going?"  
  
"We can't go back the way we came; that's where the smoke's coming from." Finding Luke's hand, Noah continued running down the dark corridor, keeping to the wall as a guide and pulling Luke along behind him.  
  
The corridor turned and suddenly there was light drifting in through high skylights that ran down one side.  
  
"Noah," Luke asked, panting from the lack of oxygen as well as the panic. "Where is everybody?"  
  
"I don't know... Keep going… I think I know where we are now."  
  
"What are you looking for?" Luke asked.  
  
"My dad's office… the corridor is somewhere along here. "I'm sure of it!"  
  
Noah came to such an abrupt stop that Luke slammed into the back of him. Ignoring Luke's cry of protest, Noah frowned down a long dark corridor in consideration, then looked back the way they'd just come.  
  
"Noah…?"  
  
"It's this way!"  
  
"Are you sure?" Luke was reluctant to leave the sanctuary of the light. Noah had only visited his father on the base a few times, before the two had their falling out.   
  
"Yes," Noah replied, waiting a thoughtful beat and then repeating with more certainty. "Yes!"  
  
He grasped Luke's hand once more and flew down the darkness; counting the doors they passed quietly under his breath and finally stopping before one.  
  
Luke found himself continually looking back, searching for the faint but comforting beam of light from the main corridor.  
  
 _As long as we can see the light we won't get lost._  
  
"This is the lab… I think. My dad's office is inside."  
  
Luke fumbled in the dark, until his fingers found the door handle. He pushed down and the door opened. He was the first to enter. He could see nothing and his heart was thumping so hard that his senses were elevated. He felt an eeriness in the air.  
  
"Hello?" Noah called out.  
  
Silence.  
  
"What's that smell?" Luke asked.  
  
"I don't know." Noah pressed him forward and Luke stretched out his arms; feeling his way in the darkness; connecting with the surface of the lab table and following it deeper into the room.  
  
"Hello? Dad? Anybody?"  
  
"There's nobody here, Noah. Maybe we should-"  
  
Luke stepped in something slimy and slipped, falling hard on the base of his spine and groaning at the sudden pain.  
  
"Luke?" Noah called in alarm. "You okay?"  
  
Luke tried to stand up. But his feet kept skidding on the linoleum floor; hands slipping through some kind of sticky substance.  
  
"Luke?"  
  
The lights turned on suddenly in a whirr of generators, temporarily blinding him. But when he could see, Luke screamed.  
  
It was suddenly very clear what that metallic smell was; the floor was flooded in human blood and he was staring under the table into the dull green eyes of a pretty lab technician lying haphazardly where she'd fallen.  
  
"Noah… Noah… Noah…" he gasped repeatedly as he heaved for air. His shoes and the back of his jeans were soaked through with blood; his hands red with it.  
  
 _This isn't happening!_  
  
He managed to scurry back toward the doorway; and use the wall to leverage himself to standing.  
  
"Noah!" he screamed again; wide eyes scanning the wrecked laboratory. It seemed there was a body in every corner; lying in twisted heaps. A man wearing a white lab coat sat up against one wall; his face frozen in the shock he must have felt as the bullet hit him right between the eyes.  
  
 _This isn't happening! This can't be happening!_  
  
His gaze finally found Noah.  
  
The brunette stood stone still and silent in the doorway to his father's office, gazing inside; hands clenched.  
  
 _Oh God, no! Please no!_  
  
"Daddy?" The word left Noah's lips like glass breaking.  
  
Luke wanted more than anything to comfort Noah but his feet wouldn't move. His entire body simply refused to cooperate, shaking violently. His insides heaved, forcing him to recoil against the wall, bent over and gripping his stomach.   
  
Multiple footsteps and voices seem to come from nowhere. Everything happened so quickly. Men with rifles bust through the doorway. They were yelling things at him, but he couldn't process thought at all.  
  
He followed instructions on auto-pilot; eyes glued on Noah across the lab; watching in horror as the cops tackled the heartbroken brunette to the floor; cuffing him.   
  
Luke found his chest being pressed against the wall; his legs kicked apart, until they splayed so wide it hurt. Hands patted him down from arms to ankles.  
  
"Be careful of the evidence, people!" A tall thin FBI agent entered the room; scanning it with the satisfied air of a job well done.  
  
"Found the weapons, Agent Marsh!" Somebody yelled.  
  
Luke was only vaguely aware of his rights being read to him and his wrists being cuffed.  
  
"You're under arrest on suspicion of arson and murder," another voice was saying. "You have the right to remain silent…"


	15. Chapter 15

**Arlington, Texas, Granger Garage, 2019**  
  
They located the rented garage by pure slight of chance.  
  
Chief Blithe found a letter in spindly scrawl and a shaky hand, addressed to Noah Sutherland and signed by 'Yours truly, Earl Granger' amongst an assortment of bills in the rusty tin letterbox situated outside the Sutherland's trailer.  
  
In the letter, Mr. Granger was most apologetic and embarrassed to request an increase in the rental charge on his garage at 25 Timbercrest Drive, located just a couple of blocks from the hospital where Snyder was last seen.  
  
"In the three years you have rented from me, I have not yet seen fit to increase the charge." Mr. Granger explained. "I trust you find my request reasonable."  
  
The red Dodge pickup, registered to Noah Sutherland, was found abandoned a block down the road. This, along with the puddle of oil on the garage floor and a fresh set of tire tracks, all led them to the inevitable conclusion that their fugitives already had alternative transportation.  
  
The garage was still fully stocked with supplies; goods scattered all over the floor evidence of the speed at which the two men made their escape.  
  
Adrian dipped his hand into a smoldering metal bin, lifting out the remnants of a Texas driver's license. Examining it closely, he could just make out the '–and' of 'Sutherland' in one corner.  
  
"Well," he said, peering down at the blackened pile of ash still smoking in the bin, "one thing's for sure… the Sutherlands are no more…"  
  
"Certainly looks that way," Chief Blithe agreed while riffling through the drawers of an old wooden shelf unit set to one side of the garage. "Hey, take a look at this…"  
  
Adrian peered over Blithe's shoulder into an old toolbox bursting to the brim with fake ID documents in various names.  
  
 _Were are they getting them from?_  
  
As annoyed as he was with the events of that morning, Adrian saw fit to keep Blithe close by. He might be an old codger, but the man had a quick eye. And damn if those rookies didn't ask 'how high?' each time Blithe yelled 'jump'!  
  
Fact was if the whole situation exploded in their faces, at least Adrian could pin the blame on small town inexperience.  
  
"Chief Blithe? Agent Williams?" A young officer puffed as he sprinted up the drive, darting around the bustling investigation team and waving a report in his hands.  
  
"You got something, Pearson?" Blithe asked.  
  
"They reached the school minutes too late, Sir." Pearson responded, out of breath. "Mayer already collected the boy and took off. By all accounts they missed him by seconds!"  
  
"God damn! Did the patrol actually see Mayer?" Adrian asked.  
  
"One team went into the school and another noticed a white van, registration…" The man looked down at the paperwork in his hands. "Um… Texus HJ 2496. They pulled the guy over. But he seemed to be alone and everything checked out, Sir. And they didn't know the boy had already been taken… so's they let 'im go."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"They're positive it was Mayer."  
  
"Fuck!" Adrian spat. "This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?" He turned on Blithe, "Weren't your guys on the ground given a picture of Mayer?"  
  
"I guess it hadn't come through to them yet." Blithe looked sheepish. "We don't have the manpower you guys have in the bureau, Agent Williams. Things take time out here."  
  
"Well it's _time_ we just don't have Blithe! Jesus!" Adrian slumped down into a garden chair and stuck his fingers in this hair; as though ready to physically pull it out strand by strand.  
  
"There's… um… there's something else…" Pearson cautiously mentioned.  
  
They waited.  
  
"Well? Adrian snapped. "Hurry up! What is it?"  
  
The young officer slightly jumped. "Two officers say they saw a man fitting Mayer's description at Cadlin Storage this morning. They didn't make the connection until they heard the call about the red Dodge pick up."  
  
"And…? Going in or coming out?" Adrian queried annoyed at the stalling.  
  
"Coming out, Sir. They say he had a large brown paper bag with 'im. One of them said he seemed kinda jumpy. But they had no probable cause to question 'im at the time."  
  
"Filled with cash?" Blithe asked Adrian directly.  
  
"Could be… I mean if I was living on the run, I'd probably stash away some cash, too. Bank accounts can be frozen and traced."  
  
Blithe nodded his agreement.  
  
"Pearson is it?" Adrian asked. Pearson nodded. "See if you can get us access to the storage locker. I doubt there'll be any clues but we should check it out anyway."  
  
"Yes Sir!" Pearson replied; taking off as fast as he arrived.  
  
"So…" Adrian considered, mind turning. "We know for sure these are our guys. We know they were well prepared to run. They have cash and a van of supplies, even if they didn't have time to take _everything_. We know they've ditched their Sutherland aliases…"  
  
"They'll be using other names now…"  
  
Adrian nodded and tapped his foot. "What about this kid... Leo Sutherland? Where the hell did he come from? Unless I missed something and men can suddenly give birth!"  
  
"Not clear on that yet," Blithe admitted, ignoring Adrian's sarcasm. "My men found a bunch of toddler photos in the trailer."  
  
"So we know the kid's been with them for the duration..." Adrian frowned.  
  
"Yip, but how they came by him is still a mystery."  
  
Adrian stood back up and they left the garage to clear space for the investigation team to finish their job.  
  
"I took a look through the case files this morning." Blithe was saying as they made their way down the long overgrown driveway. "Reading up on their backgrounds and such? Were you aware that Snyder is the son of Damian Grimaldi?"  
  
Adrian nodded. "Yip, and I know what you're gonna say next."  
  
"Well?" Blithe asked, "isn't it highly probable Grimaldi's the one who arranged their getaway and organized all these fake IDs? I mean, he's certainly got the connections."  
  
Adrian stopped walking and turned to Blithe. "Grimaldi was the first person investigated back in 2008 when Snyder and Mayer escaped. But he came up completely clean. Wasn't even in the country at the time. Seems his ex, Lily, married this Holden Snyder shortly after Luke was born; and Grimaldi agreed to let Snyder adopt Luke. But apparently Bio-Dad kept showing up in Oakdale every now and then, causing all kinds of upset for the boy." Adrian started walking again as he spoke and Blithe kept pace with him. "According to reports, Damian didn't take too kindly to the news of his son's sexuality. He and Luke had a huge blow up over it when the kid was 15. Their relationship is more than a little rocky. Besides, they hardly even know each other…"  
  
"But there's a chance isn't there?" Blithe insisted. "He's still the kid's father after all. That's a strong bond right there!"  
  
"Maybe, when you're a regular kinda guy. But we're talking about Damian 'Freaking' Grimaldi here! Man's as cold as a dead fish. Plus he's way too smart to get involved when the Feds would look his way from the start."  
  
But even as Adrian explained all this, he could tell Blithe had other ideas.  
  
"Still," Blithe said thoughtfully as they reached Adrian's car. "I'm gonna put some men on it! I can't help feeling there's more here than what meets the eye. Somebody taught these boys how to disappear; and so far Damian Grimaldi's the only person who fits the bill!"  
  
…  
  
 **Memphis, Texas, En Route, 2019**  
  
Luke flung the final registration plate through the air; it spun a few times with a whipping sound before splashing into the water. They'd driven northwest for hours, trying to stay off the main roads as much as possible.  
  
It was dark; and Leo was fast asleep in the back of the van by the time they decided to pull over for the night by the shores of a lake, just east of Memphis. A thick tree line obscured their truck from the road, and Luke felt confident they were safe for now.  
  
As he scanned the shimmering water, he could hear the voices from his past. His sisters, Faith and Natalie, shrieking with glee, water splashing as they held tiny hands and dove from the small wooden pier into Snyder Pond. His mother playing with his baby brother, Ethan, on the grassy bank…  
  
 _God! Ethan's about the same age as Leo now!_  
  
In his mind's eye, Luke saw Noah slick and wet in his board shorts, sunlight highlighting the droplets as they shimmered and fell from his slick black hair. The smile Noah had then. Luke hadn't seen Noah smile the same once, since their lives were taken from them.  
  
He breathed deeply through his nose, shaking off the memories before making his way back to the van.  
  
"Luke!" Noah screamed his name.   
  
Luke ran, flinging open the passenger door and scrambling inside. "Noah?"  
  
Noah was squirming in the seat, eyes open and wide but far from awake; arms outstretched and unconsciously grabbing at something.  
  
"Noah!" Luke said again but with more force this time, pulling Noah into his arms as best he could in the cramped quarters of the van. "I'm right here. Wake up!"  
  
He smoothed his free hand through Noah's dark hair and knew when Noah was back in the present by the way the brunette clung to him; breathing heavily.   
  
Nothing was said for some time. They rocked back and forth, comforting each other as only they could. Eventually Noah pulled away, wiping his face on the bottom of his shirt.  
  
Luke studied Noah with glassy eyes and shaky hands. "It's been a long time since you dreamed like that, Bubby."   
  
"It's been a long time since you were in any danger…" Noah replied, resting his head against the seat and looking over at Luke with deep consideration. He lifted one of Luke's hands and pressed a few light kisses to the red marks encircling Luke's wrists, where the handcuffs had bitten into his skin.  
  
Luke smiled reassuringly at him. "It's not as painful as it looks."  
  
Noah nodded. "How's Leo?"  
  
Luke peeked into the back of the van to confirm their son had slept through Noah's episode.  
  
"Tuckered out…" Luke replied.  
  
"And you?" Noah's fingers found the tips of Luke's curls and played with them softly for a while. "You don't look like you slept at all…"  
  
Luke shook his head. "Too on edge… I changed the van's registration instead. We are now temporarily Keith and Alistair Richardson."  
  
Noah snorted. "Which one am I?"  
  
"Which one would you like to be?"  
  
Noah sighed. "Keith, I guess. I don't really see myself as an Alistair."  
  
"Done," Luke replied, softly leaning forward so their heads rested together. "Here we go again…"  
  
Noah took hold of both Luke's hands in his, squeezing gently. "Yeah…"


	16. Chapter 16

****Da Nang, South Vietnam, US Military Base, 1967** **

The first thing to hit him as he stepped off the plane was the air. It was red tinted with dust; and fringed in a humidity that reminded Charles of Houston, where he grew up.  
  
The second thing to hit him was the chaos. Sweaty GIs scrambling in every direction; loading, unloading, arriving, departing.  
  
It took two nights for his stomach to settle; although the nerves remained on edge. He waited in the bunkers for the call that came sooner than expected.   
  
“Private Marsden?”  
  
“Here, Lieutenant Colonel!”  
  
Charles hopped quickly off his bunk to stand at attention.  
  
“Join Colonel Bunsen outside Bunker 8,” his superior commanded, clipboard in hand. “You’ll be helping to run patrols and ambushes from Hill 20.”   
  
“Yes, Sir!”   
  
This was it. The moment for which he'd trained. He always knew he would join the Army; and, unlike his counterparts, he’d really had to fight to get there. He wasn’t naturally athletic, built more for the desk than physical activity. But he was determined and driven enough to get the attention of his superiors. They eventually pushed him though the necessary training, deciding that what he lacked in physicality he more than made up for in brains.   
  
He made his way through the busy base, side-stepping pallets and military supplies, avoiding the general hustle and bustle of morning prep; squinting to protect his sensitive eyes from a blast of air whipped up by a departing helicopter.  
  
As he approached the group of five that would become his new unit, one young soldier stood out straight away. Charles hated him on sight. He was everything - tall, muscular, good looking - that Charles lacked and so desired to be; if only because such lack of features in himself, meant he was forced to work that much harder to achieve his main life goal.  
  
He could already tell that the other men hung on the guy’s every word. He had one of those broad smiles that lit up his face; and made his startling blue eyes sparkle. He had the kind of face that said ‘like me, trust me’ and so people did. People were like sheep that way.   
  
Under one muscular arm he held a volleyball, the other was waving around as he instructed his team, “We gotta improve on our serving! Serving is where we lose points and it should be the easiest part of the game, right?” He noticed Charles standing to one side and smiled. “Hey there! You one of us?”   
  
“One of you?” Charles asked with disdain. “If you mean am I part of this platoon, then yes. If you mean am I a marauding Neanderthal, then no.”  
  
Good Looking blinked at Charles for a minute and then burst out laughing. “Good one, my man! We need six!”  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Six?” The guy repeated, bobbing his head to the other side of the net where Charles noticed the other team outnumbered his unit by one person. The perfect eyebrows lifted forming perfect forehead creases that Charles was willing to bet could melt the heart of any woman.  
  
 _Bastard!_  
  
“So, you in?” The boy raised the volleyball with both hands, ready to chuck it Charles’s way depending on the response he got.   
  
“Who’s winning?” Charles asked.   
  
“We are, of course!” The man replied, flashing perfect white teeth as he grinned. “9 to 3!”  
  
Charles moved forward to join the game. In the back of his mind, he wondered what he was doing. He was terrible at ball games! Always had been. But he possessed a natural determination to win, to be the best. And this guy was just the sort to light that competitive fire within Charles.   
  
He just wished his butter fingers hadn’t dropped the ball after it was chucked his way.  
  
His platoon laughed and moaned at the same time; obviously ascertaining that this small and weedy guy _was_ actually just as small and weedy as he appeared.   
  
It made him hate Mr. Perfect even more.   
  
“Okay people, line up over here!”   
  
The voice of command was just that within a US Army Base. It was never questioned and always immediately answered. Charles left the ball where it had fallen to form into line and stand to attention; shoulder to shoulder with his new platoon.  
  
“If any of you are bleeding from your game over here, you need to stand well away from me,” the colonel joked. “I can’t stand the sight of blood!”  
  
He eyed them all for a time; really looking each of them up and down. He came to notice Charles and, although his expression didn’t change, Charles could tell he was surprised. It was hard not to stand out, when the rest of your platoon towered above you.   
  
“When I call your name, please respond in kind! Sanders?”  
  
“Here, Colonel!”  
  
“Abadie?”  
  
“Here, Colonel!”  
  
“Hibbing?”  
  
“Here, Colonel!”  
  
“Mayer?”  
  
“Here, Colonel!” Good Looking responded; shoulders squared; face respectful.  
  
“I’ve read your file, Mayer! You have an impressive record! I’m expecting a lot from you, soldier!”  
  
“Yes, Colonel!”   
  
Even the guy’s voice was perfect, Charles scowled.  
  
The colonel's head sharply turned in Charles' direction. “Do you have a problem, soldier?”   
  
_Shit!_  
  
“None, Colonel!” Charles replied, praying it would be enough.  
  
“What is your name, Private?”  
  
“Marsden, Sir!”  
  
“You look like you have gas, Marsden. Do you have gas, Private?”  
  
Charles tried to ignore the smirks he could see out the corner of his eye; as much as his platoon tried to hide them.  
  
“No, Colonel!”  
  
“No what?”  
  
“No, I do not have gas, Sir!” Charles felt the heat rise up in his cheeks.   
  
“Well,” Col. Bunsen said, showing no change in emotion. “I expect you’ll be able to wipe that idiotic look from your face then? Am I right?”  
  
“Yes, Colonel!”  
  
“Drop down and give me 20!”  
  
 _Great!_  
  
As Charles struggled through his punishment, Bunsen finished the roll-call. Members of the platoon learned the final member of their group was the blonde-haired Webber.  
  
Once Charles finished his 20 push-ups, and the squad was back in line, the colonel began.  
  
“In case you’re wondering, I’m looking for winners! Because that’s what I am! I’m a winner! In fact, I’m very, very good at _being_ a winner!” He eyed them all intensely again. “Anybody can be a winner! _Anybody_!” He looked down at Charles. “Although it does help to have some natural ability.”  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
“In my platoon, there are no weaklings... and definitely no idiots!” Bunsen moved down the line of soldiers. “Both those traits get men killed! And I don’t know about you, but I’d like to survive through this Godforsaken war in tact! Am I understood?”  
  
“Yes, Sir!” The entire platoon responded in unison.  
  
“Alright! You men _are_ now my platoon. We are Bravo Company Twelve! We ship out at 010 hundred!” His expression changed into a frown when nothing happened. Then he shouted, “Move, move, move!”  
  
They jumped and hurried off to collect their pre-packed and ready-to-go-at-a-moments-notice gear.   
  
Charles’s heart beat with determination. He would prove himself to Colonel Bunsen if it was the last thing he did.  
  
…   
  
**Washington DC, Washington, Russell Senate Office Building, 2019**  
  
Luke Snyder and Noah Mayer weren’t supposed to survive. That was the long and short of it. The death penalty should have taken care of them; sealing the truth forever within two wooden coffins.   
  
Even when those blasted attorneys managed to negotiate life sentences instead; Charles wasn’t concerned. Accidents happened all the time in prison. It was part and parcel of the political process. Sometimes people needed to be silenced for the benefit of the greater good.   
  
The art of politics was very similar to the art of war in that regard. Casualties were unavoidable. And once you made that bid for the top, you soon realized that the price you’d have to pay to get there was your own soul. He had long ago resigned himself to eternal damnation.   
  
Charles worked his way into a position where suddenly pretty much anything became possible. He discovered that as a US Senator, he was borderline invincible so long as the average Jack and Jill didn’t catch wind of his activities. And indiscretions were pretty easy to cover up, when you had the FBI at your disposal.   
  
Still, whenever he thought about the boy, he felt that acidic grate on his innards. This one hadn’t been easy. Not only was Winston his closest friend, but he’d known Noah from birth, bouncing him on his knee; and teaching him to shoot while his father was working.   
  
Noah was sweet and respectful. It was hard not to like the kid.   
  
Winston had left him with no choice.   
  
It had been a long time since he’d thought about Oakdale. His first reaction at the boys’ escape was to panic. But over time, as they remained hidden and silent, Charles conceded the incident as over. It wasn’t ideal; knowing they were out there still. But years passed without incident and so far the entire mess appeared stabilized.   
  
So now it was strange that just as one of the missing boys resurfaced in Arlington, Texas, he should reach his desk to find _this_ particular stuffed brown envelope waiting for him there.  
  
He frowned down and sprawled the contents across his desk. The Washington Post indicated their intention to run a story in the next edition based on the enclosed documents; and asked him to phone the number provided if he wished to provide comment. Apparently, someone who wished to remain anonymous had sent the documents to the paper.   
  
_Marsh!_  
  
This was a potential disaster. Although the documents proved nothing on their own, questions could arise to lead reporters to the incident in Oakdale. That, coupled with the sudden reappearance of Luke and Noah on the FBI radar, would only light the fire of interest and spark trouble for Charles on a massive scale.   
  
_Shit!_


	17. Chapter 17

**Rio Grande National Forest, Colorado, 2019**  
  
The first sparks of daybreak were just starting to glint through the forest's tall pine trees by the time the road narrowed; beginning a lazy back and forth climb up the peak.  
  
Noah felt a small amount of comfort sink in; hidden as they now were by the thick canopy of trees. He glanced over at the sleeping Luke; hair all mussed up; still gorgeous regardless.  
  
The blonde's head lolled sideways against the window pane as he softly snored. Noah noted how Luke seemed to have settled in his sleep. For a while during the drive, he dreamed restlessly, babbling and waving his arms about. At one point, Noah had even reached over to hold Luke's hands still, smoothing the side with his thumb.  
  
He pivoted in his seat to check on Leo, surprised to find the boy awake. Leo sat with legs to chest, right up against the back of the van. His arms were crossed and he wore a scowl that glared into Noah when their eyes met.  
  
Turning his attention back to the road, Noah swallowed and asked, "How long you been awake?"  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
 _Answering a question with a question. This can't be good._  
  
"A place we own," Noah explained. "Up in the woods."  
  
They drove in strained silence for a while. Noah had no idea what the boy was thinking. During the two hours it took them to tell their story, Leo hadn't commented much. He'd simply crawled into a ball at the back of the van, burrowing deeper and deeper under an old blanket, until eventually drifting off to sleep.  
  
"You must be hungry," Noah said; his own stomach growling in agreement. "There's food in a box somewhere. I think there're a couple of bags of beef jerky?"  
  
His suggestion was greeted with more silence; and Noah decided not to press it. He waited patiently and eventually Leo spoke again.   
  
"You knew this would happen one day… didn't you?"  
  
Noah briefly closed his eyes with a growing sense of dread.  
  
"I mean…" Leo continued, indicating at the supplies around him. "…all this stuff? The van? Some place in the woods?"  
  
He couldn't see Leo's face, but Noah could hear the hurt and anxiety in his small voice. It caused the back of Noah's throat to burn.  
  
"You guys were ready for this…"  
  
Noah slowly nodded. "I hoped… no… I prayed it wouldn't happen… At least not until you were old enough to fend for yourself. But… yes… there was always a strong possibility they'd find us."  
  
Luke shifted in the seat beside Noah and squinted, as he opened his eyes to the morning beam of light. The first thing he did after a quick yawn was to check on Leo. He turned back to Noah with a small smile, rubbing his eyes.  
  
"Morning, Baby," Noah greeted.  
  
Luke sat upright, surveying the forest scenery as it whooshed past. "Almost there?"  
  
"Not long now."  
  
He gave Noah a surreptitious sideways glance, eyes flicking toward the back of the van.  
  
Noah shook his head grimly and Luke sighed, trying to tame his fly-away locks by dragging his fingers through them.  
  
"Do you think we'll be able to drive up there?" Luke asked. "Remember what the road was like?"  
  
"Hope so." Just as he spoke Noah's head whipped backward.  
  
He slammed on the brakes so hard, Leo flew forward.  
  
"Hey!" the boy groaned, scrambling back on his behind. "Watch it!"  
  
"Sorry, Son," Noah replied. But he was distracted with turning the van around.  
  
"What's up?" Luke asked.  
  
"I think that was the turn back there."  
  
Sure enough, once the van faced back the way they'd come, the old and overgrown dirt road could just be made out.  
  
"Geez, Bubby!" Luke gasped. "It looks worse than the last time."  
  
Noah frowned, considering the risk before deciding to give it a try.  
  
Luke nodded his agreement. "Just take it slow, okay?"  
  
There _was_ only the option to take it slow. The van's engine screamed in protest up the steep banks; tires struggling to take hold on the mushy forest floor. A few times they had to stop and clear fallen branches out of the way. Leo helped reluctantly; if only because he was sick of being holed up in the van; and just wanted to arrive wherever it was they were going.  
  
Just as when they'd first made the journey more than nine years earlier, the road had been flattened by animals using it as a quick path through the dense thickets. To their relief, the van was eventually able to pass.  
  
That wasn't the only parallel to their first stay at the cabin. It was amazing what a toll nine years of neglect could have on a place.  
  
Their heads shook at the sight of the derelict shack.  
  
"Seems smaller than I remember…" Noah muttered to himself.  
  
Without waiting Leo pulled the sliding door open and hopped out of the van.  
  
"You've gotta be kidding me?" he yelled, running both hands through his dark hair as he surveyed their new home. "No way! No fucking way!"  
  
Luke stepped down from the van's passenger side, holding out two hands in an effort to placate him. "Leo…?"  
  
"This is your _plan_?" Leo screamed in disbelief. "Live out here like some fucking hillbillies? Like fucking animals?"  
  
Neither man knew what to say to help ease the pain they'd unwittingly inflicted on their child.  
  
"I wish I hadn't gotten into the van now!" Their son's face was red with his heated rage. "I wish you _were_ dead! I fucking hate you!"  
  
As Leo stormed tearfully off toward the nearest line of trees, Luke made a move to go after him. However Noah stepped out to block his path.  
  
"Noah…?"  
  
"Leave him…"  
  
"But…?"  
  
"There's nowhere for him to go." Noah looked back over his shoulder, watching his son reach the trees only to stop dead.  
  
Realizing just how trapped he was, Leo released a scream of frustration, kicking the end of a tree stump before finally sitting on a log with his head in his hands.  
  
With tears in his eyes Noah turned back to Luke, rubbing his husband's chest before hugging him close. "Let him blow off some steam first."  
  
…  
  
They left Leo alone, spending time checking the cabin over and cataloging those jobs most essential.  
  
Noah smoothed his hand over Leo's old wooden crib, now dusty and crisscrossed in spider webs. Lying abandoned inside was the old poetry book he used to read to Leo at night. Luke smoothed a hand in the small of Noah's back as Noah picked up the book, blowing at it to clear the dust, and opening it up.  
  
"Run, run, little rabbit, run…" he said softly.  
  
Luke stretched up to kiss Noah's cheek before getting back to work.  
  
Eventually, after a few more minutes of clearing up, he could no longer stomach seeing the forlorn figure through the window. He left Noah and headed off down the steep bank of high grass.  
  
Leo stood facing the forest pushing a makeshift swing. If he heard his father's approaching footsteps, he didn't look up to acknowledge his presence.  
  
"Your dad made that for you out of an old car tire."  
  
The boy turned at Luke's voice, folding his arms protectively around himself and staring at the ground.  
  
"I'm surprised it's still here," Luke continued, giving the swing a small shove and smiling at the memories. "He would push you for ages! He loved to make you laugh. He still does."  
  
"Yeah, well, I don't exactly feel like laughing right now, Pop."  
  
"No. I know."  
  
Luke took a seat on a fallen log, resting his elbow on his knees and rubbing his hands together. He watched Noah lift a ladder against the side of the cabin, getting ready to waterproof the roof. Periodically, the man would look in their direction, checking up on them.  
  
"Sit with me?" Luke asked, patting the space beside him.  
  
Leo didn't move, but he lifted his eyes to Luke's. Anger and hatred warred with a hurt love and burned hot from within the deep blue.  
  
"Everything…" Leo began, struggling to speak past the tightness in his chest. Voice breaking as only a 12-year old boy's could. "Everything in my life… a lie! Was that story you told me a lie, too? Did you kill those people?"  
  
"No."  
  
Leo stepped forward, looking for a fight. "I _don't_ believe you! You're a liar and a murderer and I hope you rot in _hell_!"  
  
Luke flinched and he caught the look of triumph from his son. He knew Leo was deliberately trying to wound him.  
  
 _Mission accomplished._  
  
Usually he would never put up with the language and tone his son was currently spitting out in droves. Not that Leo was usually prone to cussing. But if there was ever a time to let that slide, it was now.  
  
Luke stood and grabbed his son's shoulders. Leo shook himself free and backed away.  
  
Luke sagged. "Everything your Dad and I told you yesterday was the truth."  
  
"Why should I believe you?" Leo asked, his voice unsteady and cracking. "If you lied about this... then you could lie about _anything_ and... then…" his face fell; he winced suddenly at the realization.  
  
Luke's heart withered at the look on his son's face; the air leaving his lungs as he stepped forward to somehow brace for impact.  
  
Their son's horrified gaze traveled up the weedy bank; locking with those of Noah's, where the man now stood watching them, frozen by the side of the van.  
  
Without breaking that gaze, Leo's mouth gaped open; tears spilled. "Oh my God! Who the hell _am_ I? Jesus!"  
  
Luke felt himself losing control. He shook off the sobs aching through him, rushing forward. "Leo…"  
  
"Am I even his son?"  
  
"Of course you are!" Luke assured him, reaching out for him. "Of course!"  
  
Leo turned on Luke. "You're lying!"  
  
"No…"  
  
Suddenly Noah was there; his wide stride getting him quickly down the hill where instinct told him he was needed.  
  
"Both of you!" Leo continued to back away. "Who the fuck _are_ you people?"  
  
The strain of his sadness became too much. The child collapsed to the ground, clutching the back of his head as he wept in despair.  
  
Luke knelt beside him, making sure to give him the space he seemed to need right then. "Leo… how many times have people… complete strangers… commented on how much you look like your dad?"  
  
Instead of looking at Luke who was speaking, Leo raised bloodshot eyes that bore into Noah's.  
  
"Deep down," Luke carefully continued. "You know the truth… don't you?"  
  
The tiny nod flooded Luke with hope and he sighed in relief.  
  
"Is my mother really dead?"  
  
Luke remained silent. He knew these were questions Leo wanted Noah to answer.  
  
"Yes," Noah replied. "I didn't know you existed. We found you by chance… living in squalor… She was a drug addict and a prostitute."  
  
"She gave me away?" Leo thinly asked.  
  
Noah shook his head. "No… no Baby… she didn't."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Noah took a deep shuddery breath, glancing once at Luke for strength. When he felt he'd composed himself, he stepped closer. "When we first saw you, you were playing in a yard of broken glass and rusty nails. You were three years old and nobody was watching you."  
  
Leo shifted until his back leant up against the fallen log. Luke sat back down beside him.  
  
"You have to understand, Son…" Noah continued. "Your mother knew who I was. The only reason we were never reported was because she was too drunk to remember us ever having been there. We _had_ to split… but… we love you Leo… we've loved you from the start…"  
  
Leo sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his arm. "You took me."  
  
Noah nodded, tilting his head slightly as he waited for Leo's reaction.  
  
"We had to," Luke confirmed.  
  
"And she never looked for me?"  
  
"She reported you missing," Noah replied. "That's one of the reasons we first came up here… I think she really loved you, Leo. She... she just didn't know how to look after you..."  
  
"How long were we here for?"  
  
"Over the winter. By the time we resurfaced, the search for you had died down some. Then a month later we saw a news report that she and her husband were gunned down in a gangland shooting. I'm sorry, Baby."  
  
They waited in silence for that to sink in.  
  
"Look at me, Leo," Luke softly requested, reaching out to gently turned Leo's head by his chin. Once Luke had the eye contact, he said, "You're right. We have lied to you. We've… um… we've lied to a lot of people. If we could do it all over again, I can't even promise we would change that… We didn't have a choice. But, Baby… we aren't lying now."  
  
"Why don't you just tell the police what you told me?"  
  
"It's not that simple, Leo," Noah replied. "It's been too long… and whoever set us up knew what they were doing. We thwarted their plans by running. There is no way they can let us live."  
  
"What about the farm?" Leo asked, turning back to Luke. "Grandma Emma? The pond? Did you make up all those stories you used to tell me, Pop?"  
  
Luke smiled at him and shook his head, reaching out to push a black curl behind Leo's ear. "No. That was 100 percent true."  
  
"Are they still there?"  
  
"I hope so," Luke softly replied.  
  
Leo pressed his palm into the bark and used it to push himself up, wiping the back of his pants.  
  
He stepped closer to Noah, watching the man with deep consideration before saying, "I'm sorry about what they did… to your dad…"  
  
A tear tracked down Noah's face. He nodded his thanks, reaching out to take the boy into his arms.  
  
Noah hugged Leo tightly, looking down at Luke who smiled at him with a nod of his head.


	18. Chapter 18

**Da Nang, South Vietnam, 1969**  
  
He wanted to hate Winston Mayer. He really did. But Colonel Bunsen sensed his animosity from the start; and partnered Charles with Winston.  
  
Yet, although outwardly Charles maintained his dislike of Winston, internally he was beginning to enjoy the man's company. Winston was smart, a quick thinker; and shared many of the same life views and values as Charles.  
  
Plus there was nothing like almost getting killed on a daily basis to bind two men like brothers.  
  
"I'm gonna make colonel one day!" Winston told him one rainy evening cramped together in a muddy dugout. "What about you? What's your dream?"  
  
Charles shook his head, "I don't have a dream. I only have a goal. I already know what I'll become."  
  
Winston smiled at him, "And that would be?"  
  
"President."  
  
Winston blinked and then burst out laughing in that way of his. "President of what?"  
  
"The United States, of course. Why do you think I'm out here in this fucking place? It's not because I want to be a soldier all my life! There's nothing voters like more than a president, who served his country during wartime."  
  
Winston laughed heartily; and patted Charles on the back. Charles liked it. He'd never really had a close friend before and he liked the feeling of camaraderie Winston so easily created.  
  
"You know Charles?" Winston said. "I believe you."  
  
Charles thought it funny he should be thinking about that now. Maybe it was because this night was so very similar; that same thin rain that soaked you through; the two of them huddled in another dugout.  
  
"Bravo Oscar One. This is Papa Ex-ray. Come in, over."  
  
Winston and Charles stared at each other, panic growing.  
  
 _Why aren't they answering?_  
  
Their unit was interspersed around base camp. Their job was to intercept any enemy attempts to attack. But for a whole five minutes, they'd been unable to contact any of the other dugouts.  
  
"Do you have movement at this time? Over." Winston tried again.  
  
"They're sleeping," Charles suggested. "They must be sleeping."  
  
"Or the radio's broken?" Winston asked.  
  
Charles shrugged, looking out into the damp darkness.  
  
"Bravo Oscar One! Come on! Somebody talk to me. Did you idiots fall asleep or something? Over."  
  
Winston was silent for a moment, still holding the radio to his lips, until eventually making a move.  
  
"What are you doing?" Charles asked.  
  
"I'm going to check it out!"  
  
"The hell you are!" Charles insisted. "Our orders are to stay put!"  
  
"You call the CO… tell them what's going on out here. I'm going to wake those boys up!"  
  
Charles watched as Winston crouched low to the ground and disappeared into the night.  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
He hated being on his own.  
  
Quickly, he radioed the situation in to HQ, explaining that things didn't seem right and Mayer had gone to investigate. Then he lay low, waiting in the dark, listening to the rain falling on the dense forest leaves. His own breathing sounded really loud to his ears as he held his rifle tight and close.  
  
Then the gunshots started. Hundreds of them.  
  
"Marsden get out of the hole! Get out! Get out!"  
  
He heard Winston's shouts before he saw the man, running like the wind with flashes of ammunition fire following on behind him. A few bullets ricocheted close to Charles' head. He didn't wait for further instruction. He flung himself from the hole just as a grenade detonated inside, blowing the dug out into a pile of mud and smoke.  
  
For a moment, he was deafened and confused, laying flat on the ground with his hands over his head. His body was numb with fear and he couldn't move. It was Winston's hands pulling him that eventually got him running. But no sooner had he stood back up, when he felt the bite of a bullet hit him squarely in the back.  
  
"Aaargh!" he screamed in shock and dropped to his feet.  
  
Winston turned back instantly, without thought for himself, gathering Charles up as best he could, and helping the man past the US barricade. Soldiers there scurried into action, defending the camp from the invaders and providing the fleeing soldiers with cover.  
  
"Medic!" Winston yelled in Charles's ear. "Medic!"  
  
They were the only two surviving soldiers from Bravo Company Twelve.  
  
…  
  
 **Branson, Missouri, Mayer Residence, 2007**  
  
Nearing 60, Charles was proud that he could still jog a few miles without growing tired. But he was damn near dead by the time he caught up with Winston back at the house; already stretching and sipping water from a bottle.  
  
"Slow, coach!" Winston teased.  
  
Gasping for breath, Charles bent over double and coughed from the effort of the run. "Bastard! We can't all be perfect athletes you know?"  
  
Winston laughed. "You bet! Just like we can't all be president!"  
  
Charles stood tall, smiling and taking the water bottle as Winston offered it to him.  
  
"I'm proud of you, Charles! You always said you would do it and now… you're almost there! One day soon I'll be best friends with the President!" Winston grinned. "Does that mean I get a ride on Air Force One?"  
  
Charles chortled. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, friend. It's not a done deal yet! I've still got a few years to go before I can make the attempt! Maybe if I had your looks _and_ my brains I'd already be at the top… But alas, I'll have to convince the voters some other way."  
  
"Anyway…" Winston began, taking a wide-legged seat on the porch step. "What's up with this little visit Charles? Not that I'm not glad to you see you and everything. But what brings you way out here to Branson?"  
  
Charles sat down beside his friend. He would have to proceed with caution. Winston was sharp. He'd smell a rat from a mile away. "I heard you requested a transfer to Oakdale?"  
  
"That's right," Winston confirmed, taking another sip of water. "I noticed they're undergoing similar research to the work you've got me doing here. I figured I could go out there and kill two birds with one stone."  
  
"Oh?" Charles asked, eyebrows rising with interest. "What's this other bird?"  
  
"My son."  
  
"Noah? What's Noah got to do with anything?"  
  
Winston sighed, his face frowning with profound disappointment. "The boy doesn't want to join the army, Charles."  
  
"Really? That's odd for a kid who's been so immersed in the life."  
  
"Wants to be a film maker!"  
  
Charles eyes widened even further. "Well, who would have thought?"  
  
"Not me! Must get it from his bitch of a mother! He's just like her! Head stuck in the fucking clouds!"  
  
"And Oakdale?" Charles asked, ignoring that comment. There was an unspoken agreement between them never to discuss the 'incident' that saw Winston's wife, Charlene, forced out of the marital home. It was with Charles' help that Winston was able to perpetuate Noah's belief that his mother died when he was three. Where she actually resided, was anybody's guess.   
  
"Well, I told him I would only fund this crazy idea of his, if he joined the army for at least a year."  
  
"And?"  
  
"He ran off behind my back, if you can believe that! Got himself a fully-funded scholarship at Oakdale University. He's determined to go through with this no matter what I say." Winston shook his head. "I don't know Charles… The boy's never defied me like this before. Did I tell you he came back to Branson on a so called 'work' assignment and _forgot_ to let me know? I had to find out from one of my lieutenants!"  
  
Charles patted Winston's back. "It's most likely just a phase. Kids do have them I hear!"  
  
Winston nodded. "I guess. But still, I'd like to move out there. I can keep an eye on him and hopefully talk him back to the military. It's where he belongs."  
  
Charles nodded but inside he was squirming. If Winston discovered the true reason for all of the research Charles had him doing in Branson, Charles dreaded to think what the man would do. Winston was the quintessential soldier; honest, upstanding. Rules, and therefore the law, were to be followed to the letter.  
  
If Winston got wind of any wrong doing; no matter Charles's reasons; the senator couldn't count on his friend to back him up. Not with something like this.  
  
But sitting there sweating beside Winston, Charles knew without a doubt that there was nothing he could now do to stop that from happening.  
  
"You look worried, Charlie," Winston observed. "Don't be. I'll sort things with Noah. He's my son after all."


	19. Chapter 19

**Rio Grande Forest, Colorado, 2019**  
  
They left the windows wide open to help air the place out; rid it of that stale wet smell that permeated the cabin on their arrival. The moonlight made a lattice-like pattern on the floor, as it broke through the mosquitoe screens Noah had installed.  
  
It was also hotter than hell. All three of them had gone to bed, each wearing a pair of boxers; Luke and Noah taking the rickety old bed, while Leo slept on the sofa.  
  
But even the dry heat didn't keep Luke and Noah from clinging to each other. They lay on their stomachs; Noah's arm reaching over the expanse of Luke's broad back; thumb rubbing small circles on Luke's bicep; noses touching. Luke could feel every one of Noah's heartbeats against his skin; feel Noah exhale between them.  
  
They breathed heavily; gazes drowning in that intensity that was so _them_. Holding a conversation where words were obsolete; so damn grateful to still have each other after another near miss.  
  
Noah Mayer had the looks of a charmer; only with a rougher edge brought on by a fair share of hard knocks; each one chipping away a little of the brunette's soul. His hair was shiny and thick and long enough to be irresistible; the glow from the moon behind him casting iridescent colors throughout the thick mass.  
  
Luke dropped his gaze and allowed his eyes to follow the angles of Noah's face, noting every taut plane, the stubble covering his chin, and most of all the beautiful line of his lips.  
  
 _Just so damn kissable. Always has been._  
  
Noah was watching him too, with eyes that read his thoughts. "We'll be okay."  
  
At the sound of Noah's deep voice, Luke looked up again. Their gazes connected; strong and true. Luke opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His throat closed up; and his heart rate elevated; eyes stinging.  
  
"We will!" Noah assured him, pressing a reassuring kiss to Luke's lips. "We'll be okay."  
  
Luke curled into Noah until the two of them were forming an almost perfect egg-shape, legs hooked around knees; hands cupping backs of necks; foreheads touching; and the occasional gentle connection of lips.  
  
Then Noah kissed him more deeply and Luke's body responded. The room filled with the sounds of crickets; the occasional call of a wolf or owl; and their breathing, shuddering with a yearning to be closer.  
  
Luke fell to his back; arms flopping over his head to give Noah more access to his chest.  
  
He closed his eyes as the brunette kissed a soft path from his belly button to the hollow of his neck; Noah's favorite place. Noah spent a moment sucking there before drawing Luke's head down to meet his own, kissing Luke's temple; cupping Luke's face and diving in for a breathtaking kiss. A moan escaped Luke's lips and Noah quickly checked over his shoulder to make sure they hadn't woken Leo.  
  
But the boy was still fast asleep, curled up like an angel on the sofa.  
  
They lay spooned for a while, Noah's cheek rested against Luke's, fingers running through Luke's hair.  
  
They watched their son sleeping; enjoying the feel of each other's bodies pressed so tightly, fitting so perfectly; toes rubbing together.  
  
Luke turned his head to Noah, staring earnestly up into Noah's blues.  
  
"I know," Noah swallowed. "Me too."  
  
Luke nodded; chest hitching.  
  
Noah desperately mouthed the back of Luke's ear and Luke whispered, "There's the van…"  
  
Noah smiled, kissed Luke; rolled over the top of him, standing to his feet; holding out his hand for Luke to take.  
  
They grabbed the blankets off the bed and stepped out into the warm night, opening the sliding door on the van as quietly as possible. Luke made a bed with the blankets and laid himself down into them, holding his arms out to welcome Noah.  
  
As Noah worshiped Luke; caressing him like he was the most precious thing on earth; Luke nestled closer. He loved the way Noah smelled and drew comfort after an incredibly stressful couple of hours. He tightened his arms around Noah; palms soaking up the warmth of Noah's sweat-laced skin.  
  
Pressing up on his hands, Noah paused above Luke, a breath away from him, breathing ragged. He inundated Luke with his very essence, that charisma that accessed Luke's every response; all the pain of the day, the fear for the future welling up over his features.  
  
Tenderness bloomed inside of Luke, mixing with his desire. He rose up on his elbows and threaded his fingers through Noah's hair. Their mouths collided in a frantic exhilaration. Kissing Noah this way was always so sweetly _right._ Luke swelled with so much emotion he thought he might bust open from it all.  
  
He traced Noah's lips with his tongue, eliciting a half groan of response from the brunette. Noah's fingers tightened on the nape of Luke's neck, and he tilted Luke's head back to deepen the kiss.  
  
There was nothing more delicious than the weight of Noah's long body against his own and the forceful anticipation that would build steadily between them; liquid heat flowing through Luke's veins at every point Noah touched him.  
  
Clothes vanished and, as their bodies connected, Luke ran a finger over Noah's open bottom lip, drawing the man's head down to swallow his passionate cries.  
  
His own body took Noah, allowed Noah to sink inside him so effortlessly; kept perfect time to Noah's entry; falling into bliss. They assuaged the hunger they had for each other; every cell in Luke's body vibrating with urgency. With a long, pained groan, he dragged Noah back into him; again and again; crying out in that zone of pure pleasure.  
  
Noah crossed Luke's arms around him, melded Luke to his own aching body, his hungry lips worshiping a path up Luke's neck and closing over Luke's ear lobe. Luke cried out again, arching back into his arousal and Noah followed, head rolling forward over Luke's shoulder, scooping Luke up in his arms and whimpering softly through his release.  
  
…  
  
When Noah opened his eyes, it was to a wall of packed supplies difficult to make out in the dark. He frowned at the baked bean tins, standing in a neat row like soldiers. He was confused for a moment, before he remembered they were still in the van. When he turned his head, he found Luke sitting naked up against the van's entrance, one leg bent while the other hung limp out the door.  
  
 _He looks like a Rembrandt painting…_  
  
Noah smiled and shifted. When the blonde didn't smile back, he asked, "What time's it?"  
  
Luke shrugged, resting his head back against the metal side of the van. "Still early... I can't sleep."  
  
Noah crawled over to him, reaching out to smooth a hand up Luke's leg and cup the knee, squeezing gently; fanning his fingers.  
  
"We went over and over this plan of escape," Luke said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We thought about how we'd do it, what we'd need, where we'd go…"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But what now?" Luke plaintively asked. "We haven't planned for now…"  
  
Noah threaded his fingers through Luke's, intently watching their hands. He knew Luke was right. But every possible event after they escaped contained too many variables to plan for. There simply was no answer for that.  
  
"Today, we just focus on living…" he said.  
  
"And what about the next day?" Luke asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight. "And the day after that… next week… a year?"  
  
 _Oh Baby._  
  
Noah encircled Luke in his arms and waited for the blonde head to rest against his chest.   
  
"We do what we did the last time," he whispered into Luke's hair. "We live out here as best we can… then… when we think it's safe, we try fitting back in again… we build a new life. It's all we can do."  
  
Luke stepped out of the van; pulling himself from Noah's arms. He leaned in; located his boxers and stepped into them.  
  
"Luke…?"  
  
Luke kept his back to Noah, arms crossed, staring out at the dark forest. "How long do you think we can keep this up, Noah?"  
  
Sensing something brewing, Noah exhaled through his nose. He stretched to grab his own shorts before jumping out the van.  
  
As Noah dressed, Luke continued, "Let's say… let's just say we do this. We assume new names… We find another place to live… How long before we have to run again?" Luke turned. "There's no future in this plan of ours Noah." He broke eye contact and gazed at the ground. "There _is_ no future…"  
  
"Dammit Luke!" Noah snapped, angry in just a split second. "All those hours we spent planning and _now_ … _now_ you bring this up?"  
  
"I'm just telling you how I feel and…"  
  
"Keep it to yourself!" Noah cut him off. "God Luke! It's the only plan we fucking have! You can't start tearing it apart now!"  
  
"I can do whatever the hell I like!" Luke glared back. "If I have a problem I'm gonna to say it!"  
  
"To what purpose?" Noah defensively asked. "How the hell are you helping the situation by doubting the plan? This situation is what it is, Luke! We're here, stuck out in the fucking wilderness! You can't suddenly decide out of the blue that we've made a mistake!"  
  
"But that's just it!" Luke replied, throwing his hands up in the air. "We should have had more of a plan other than just being out here!"  
  
Noah slammed the van door shut simply because he needed to release some of the aggression Luke was stirring up inside of him. "What do you suggest, Luke? We leave?"  
  
Close to tears, Luke was shaking his head.  
  
"Oh!" Noah sarcastically exclaimed. "I know! Why don't we go and check into the Hilton?"  
  
"Stop!" Luke pleaded.  
  
"I mean we have enough cash in the van, right?"  
  
"I said stop!"  
  
"Should set us up in a nice comfortable hotel room for, I don't know, at least a month! Wouldn't that be fun?"  
  
Luke reached out and pushed Noah so hard he stumbled back, slamming into the side of the van. The blonde stood, fists balled at his side, cheeks streaked in tears; breathing hard.  
  
Noah took a deep breath, shaking his head. "We'd be spotted in a heartbeat, Baby. We've planned this for _nine_ years. We have to keep faith in that plan…" He waited a moment to steady his voice. "For Leo's sake."  
  
"And what about Leo?" Luke sobbed. "What about school? Friends? A _life_ , Noah? He's not a baby anymore!"  
  
Noah softened, reaching out his hand and waiting until Luke took it. "It will only be for a few months. We'll teach him ourselves if we have to until then. It really is too late to question now, Luke… You get that, right?"  
  
Luke reluctantly nodded; exhaling a trembling breath. "I'm just so fucking scared for him."  
  
"Are you guys fighting?" Leo stood on the tiny porch, scratching the back of his head and leaning sleepily against one wooden pillar.  
  
"No… we're not," Noah assured him, shaking his head and holding out his left arm. "Come here."  
  
Leo walked over, rubbing his eyes. Noah slung one arm around his son and the other around Luke. And there they stood, holding each other in the warm evening breeze.


	20. Chapter 20

Washington D.C., Washington, Marsden Household, 2019

Charles surreptitiously flicked open a small section of wooden blind and peeked down to his front lawn sprawling with news reporters and camera equipment.

He could just make out his press secretary taking questions at the makeshift podium.

The media event played live on the large screen television in his home theatre. His campaign staff sat around the table in silence; tapping pens, writing notes. But all paying careful attention to what was being said.

"Again..." Marsden's press secretary told the assembled reporters. "The senator categorically denies that he was ever involved with any such biological studies."

Charles cringed. He hated these damage-control type situations. It always seemed the more he denied, the more guilty he looked.

Marsh had been very careful about the level of information he'd shared with the press. Any suggestion Charles might make that Marsh was involved in this situation, could not be proved without drawing even more attention in the senator's direction.

That left Charles with no option but to lamely deny any involvement; and chalk the allegations up to feeble attempts by his opponents to destroy his race to the White House.

"If anybody needs me, I'll be in my office," Charles muttered, feeling all eyes on the back of his head as he exited the room. His head pounded.

He sat heavily in his large leather chair, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temples. A pair of soft hands massaged deeply into his shoulders and he sighed into them.

"This is bad, isn't it?" his wife asked.

Charles swiveled round and pulled Maria down on his lap. She curled her hands around his neck and smiled softly.

"Nah," he told her. "So long as we can keep the actual documentation from getting out, we should be okay."

Maria thoughtfully twisted a few of his remaining grey curls between her fingers. "Was it Marsh?"

He nodded, rubbing at the small of her back. "Has to be… I guess being this close to capturing Snyder and Mayer means he's getting ready to protect his position. If he wants, he can destroy me without any harm to himself."

She placed her forehead against his. "So no matter what, Marsh will always have this hold over you…"

Charles was no fool. When he first met his wife, he recognized in her the same burning ambition he himself embodied. Their marriage was one of mutual support to reach the pinnacle of power. She saw in him the drive needed to achieve that goal. She married him primarily for that reason. The fact she'd grown fond of him over the years didn't mean her aims had altered. She was his wife for one reason and one reason only.

Even the three children they'd so carefully planned and raised were merely ornaments to facilitate the perfect family life expected of a US Presidential candidate.

He grabbed both Maria's manicured hands and placed a chaste kiss upon the back of her fingers. "You sound defeated, Love! You should know by now I'm no loser! I'm going to have to find another way to bring Marsh down."

"Yes," she replied. "But nobody can know it was you."

"Don't you worry about that," he replied with a wink. "I'll think of something."

…

Rio Grande Forest, Colorado, 2019

"I can't see my friends again, Dad? Not even Max and Shane?"

Noah shaded his eyes, looking out over the gushing river. "They're gone now, Leo. That whole life… it's gone. I'm sorry."

Leo nodded, intent on the fly between his fingers; two tiny yellow tail feathers lying flat over a down feather, perfectly emulating the spread of a beetle's wing.

Luke sat back in the shade of a Pine tree, watching his two men quietly interact; trying to catch lunch. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine they were away on one of their fishing trips, something they often did together.

"I was just starting to get Sally Green to like me," Leo revealed, shaking his head.

Luke opened his eyes quickly, worried that Leo was getting upset again. But to his relief, Leo was grinning cheekily.

"What happened to Claire?" Noah asked.

"Oh… she was already my sorta girlfriend. I like to keep my options open, ya know?"

Luke scoffed.

Little Flirt!

The surface of the pool they'd chosen to fish was restless; the water busy. Dozens of tiny ripples spread and overlapped, rings of light multiplying and breaking in endless plethora.

Luke watched Noah thread his line through the metal guides and tie a fly to the end with his usual carefulness. He stepped forward until ankle deep in the water; drew back his arm; and rocked his wrist back and forth. He fed out more line with each circle of his forearm, until snap! Noah sent the line sailing out in a great loop, the fly bobbing gently atop the water's surface.

He casts his line with the same perfection he makes love…

As Leo followed Noah's example, Luke nibbled contemplatively on the corner of one thumb nail; drinking in the line of Noah's body, from his long legs, to his strong chest and up until…

Busted!

Noah was grinning right at him, head tilted slightly to one side; one eyebrow lifted in that mocking manner of his. 

Luke pursed his lips to hide a laugh. He shrugged, smirking back. "What?" 

"Like what you see?"

"I do as it happens…" Luke teased back.

"Oh brother!" Leo wrinkled his nose. "Key it down folks, okay?"

The two men smiled softly at each other, until Noah's smile faded suddenly, his expression changing. His gaze flittered between Luke and his son; eventually settling on Leo; watching the boy as he patiently waited for the fish to bite.

Finally, he glanced back up the bank toward the cabin.

"What is it?" Luke asked, sensing something profound happening within the other man.

There was fear in the other man's eyes. But more than that… a sudden and deep determination.

"You were right," he whispered, staring down at the swirls of water between his hip waders.

"About what?"

Noah looked back up and licked his lips. He turned sharply and reeled in his line.

A concerned Leo looked over at Noah. "What is it, Dad?"

"We can't do this." Noah shook his head.

"What?" Leo asked, looking with confusion back out at the river. "Fish?"

"I didn't want to listen to you, Luke…" Noah continued. "But only… only because… I'm so scared of losing you guys… and…"

"What do you want to do?" Luke asked, getting to his feet; brushing sand from the back of his jeans.

Noah stepped out of the river, carefully laying his poll flat on the ground. He took a deep breath, scanning the tree line.

Luke could almost hear him thinking.

"What we should have done from the start," he finally replied. "Find the evidence! Clear our names!"

"Hell yes!" Leo whooped, punching the air.

Luke shook his head at Leo, silently asking him not to get too excited. "Noah, we went over this with Damian."

"Dammit, Luke!" Noah exclaimed. "Damian rescued us because you're his son. But that's it! He wanted us to disappear! It was better for him that way…"

They stood in silence, drinking in the possibilities.

"We were just kids, Luke," Noah continued. "We were two scared kids, who did what we were told because we couldn't imagine there being another option…"

"So… you wanna… what?" Luke asked warily.

"I wanna find Damian," Noah replied. "Get him to help us."

"No."

"No?"

"It's crazy, Noah! If we stay here we're safe… we're together… If we leave then… then we're…"

"We're free, Luke," Noah finished, moving forward to grip both the blonde's arms in his hands, "for the first time in years, we can actually take back some control in all of this! We can fight!"

Luke's heart pummeled in his chest at the thought; the risk of being separated from these two people, who were his whole life.

"Come on, Baby!" Noah encouraged, indicating around them. "Anything's gotta be better than this?"

"It's too dangerous for Leo."

"No it's not!" Leo protested. "I wanna fight too!"

Noah ruffled the back of Leo's head, proudly smiling at him.

Luke couldn't help but smile at the picture the two of them created. He was scared, terrified if he were truthful. Still, they had to try. And maybe, just maybe, there was a chance they could dig themselves out of the deep dark hole they'd found themselves thrown in... like somebody's forgotten trash.

They packed up the fishing gear and made their way back up to the cabin, where they sat for over an hour on the grass discussing the logistics of a new plan of action.

Then, throwing all caution to the wind, they scrambled into the van and headed back to civilization.


	21. Chapter 21

**Arlington, Texas, HQ Three, 2019**  
  
"Leo Zane Neely!" Williams exclaimed with triumph, thumping a file down on the desk right under Archie's nose.  
  
Archie flattened his palm on the file and twisted it round to face right side up. In the left corner encased in a little plastic pocket was the photograph of a baby with blue eyes; a striking blue that managed to stand out despite the photo being old and faded.  
  
Archie immediately recognized the city's Child Protection Services watermark along with a case number on the photograph. As the police chief scanned through the file's thick contents, Williams continued on with the short version.  
  
"The three year old went missing in 2010 from a trailer park just outside Tacoma. Mother said she turned her back for a minute and he was gone. However, the police investigator said it was probably more like an hour before she noticed. CPC already had the paperwork filed to have the kid removed. They were just waiting on the judge's order. Mother was a user… heavy drinker…"  
  
"Was?"  
  
"Murdered… a few months later. Got herself involved with some pretty nasty sorts by all accounts."  
  
"And you think this Leo Neely ended up as Leo Sutherland?"  
  
"I don't _think_ ," Williams replied with certainty. "I know."  
  
He leaned over the desk, placing another photograph before Archie. It was an image of a child sitting on a kitchen chair, a wide grin on his chubby face and chocolate cake batter smeared all over his fingers and around his lips.  
  
It was startlingly different from the cold, unfeeling photograph clipped to the official file. This was a family snapshot; a treasured child.  
  
"Got this picture from the Sutherland's trailer..." Williams explained.  
  
Archie looked up, quirking his eyebrow; bending his head down to the file. His eyesight wasn't what it used to be and he wanted to be sure. He looked from one photograph to another; comparing the height in the forehead, the shape of the jaw, the distance between the eyes.  
  
 _The eyes._  
  
"It's the same kid alright."  
  
Williams nodded, standing upright and folding his arms.  
  
"Okay," Archie conceded. "But… why? I mean… they'd only have been in hiding a few months… just finding their feet really. Why steal a child and complicate things further?"  
  
"Well it wasn't to play house… that's for sure!"  
  
Archie saw a glint in Williams' eye. "Okay… what else did you discover?"  
  
Williams handed over a final photograph. "This was also recovered from the trailer…"  
  
The boy pictured was older, maybe eight or nine. He wore a Little League baseball uniform; cap on backward. He grinned with that stupid happiness of success. Beside him, Archie recognized Noah Mayer. He too wore a wide smile, only his was of pride. He had one arm slung around Leo's shoulder, while the boy held a rather large baseball trophy between his fingers.  
  
"Well I'll be damned!" Archie nodded his head in agreement.  
  
"Noah Mayer briefly attended high school in North Carolina, while his father was stationed at Cherry Point." Williams continued. "Guess who else was at that school?"  
  
Again Archie simply nodded. "The boy's mother... I get the picture. But how does it help? We still have no idea where they are…"  
  
"No," the agent despondently agreed.  
  
"Did you put a tail on Grimaldi like I asked?"  
  
Williams sighed, "Yes… but…"  
  
Archie waved him off. "I know you think it's a lost cause. I would just like to be sure we've covered all the bases."  
  
"Got ya. By the way, we've been ordered to keep a tight lid on this case for now. Absolutely no leaks to the press."  
  
"Why's that?" a surprised Archie asked. "Surely we want the public to be on the look out for them? We even have updated photographs!"  
  
"Not sure," Williams honestly responded. "All I know is somebody pretty high up is calling the shots on this one."  
  
…  
  
 **Outskirts of Trinidad, Colorado, Moonlight Diner, 2019**  
  
Leo wondered what Max and Shane were thinking about his sudden disappearance from school; not to mention the mysterious presence of the police on the very same day.  
  
If they could see him now, slipping into the roadside dinner like a secret agent; walking between the tables in search of the pay phone. They'd most likely consider the entire situation the coolest thing ever.  
  
If the tables were turned and he was the one still at school and it was either Max or Shane on the run from the law, that's what Leo would have thought, "So cool! Why can't my life be that exciting?"  
  
But now, heart thumping, mind repeating over and over the digits of the telephone number his pop had given him; Leo was thinking the situation anything _but_ cool.  
  
Nervous their faces might be front-page news easily identified by a customer, his fathers considered driving further in search of a roadside pay phone.  
  
An argument ensued at Leo's offer to make the call for them. Leo never bothered trying to get involved in one of those. His fathers both possessed a stubborn streak that meant any disagreement could last for days.  
  
Leo had seen it happen before.  
  
So instead he simply sat back playing his GameBoy and patiently waiting for their decision. But since time wasn't on their side, he figured it wouldn't take that long.  
  
In the end, his dad managed to convince his pop that Leo would be perfectly safe making a simple phone call. If anything, Noah seemed proud of Leo for his willingness to help them.  
  
For this reason, Leo was even more determined to succeed in his mission.  
  
He wondered if he looked as frightened as he felt.  
  
It was the morning breakfast rush; and the diner was packed with people grabbing a quick bite to eat before heading to work. He could hear the sizzle of bacon frying; and smell eggs cooking on the stove behind the counter.  
  
A flustered waitress with a frilly white pinafore stopped before him; balancing two trays above both their heads. "You lost, Sweetie?"  
  
"Um…" Leo gulped. "Payphone?"  
  
She indicated toward the restrooms with a nod of her head. "Back there, Darlin'"  
  
And she was off again, ignoring the impatient cries of "Waitress! Where's my coffee?"  
  
Trying to look calm and untroubled, Leo walked down the central aisle. He took some time to quickly glance at the front pages of various local and national newspapers being held in view. None of them seemed to be reporting the sighting of his pop in Arlington.  
  
The payphone turned out to be ancient with a rotary dial rather than the more modern punch buttons. Feeling like the whole restaurant was watching him, he lifted the receiver; inserted a handful of quarters; and carefully dialed the numbers as he'd memorized them.  
  
The phone seemed to ring forever. For a second, Leo's heart stopped. His father hadn't seemed that confident the number would work.  
  
 _What if she doesn't answer?_  
  
But finally there was a click; and the sound of a radio playing in the background as somebody picked up the phone.  
  
"Yeah?" A woman impatiently asked out of breath, like she'd rushed to answer the phone.  
  
"Um… Hello?"  
  
"Yes? This better not be a prank call or I'll crawl in there and bust your ass!"  
  
"Are you Jade? Jade Taylor?"  
  
"That would be me. Who's this?"  
  
"This is Leo… Leo Sutherland…"  
  
A moment passed; the payphone beeping down the minutes. Eventually, he heard the woman sigh. "That supposed to mean something to me?"  
  
"Yes… I mean… no… I mean…"  
  
"Look… Kid? I'm right in the middle of some serious leg waxing here! Can you get a move on or hang up? Either way… make up your mind!"  
  
"I'm Earnhardt's son…" he blurted.  
  
He felt stupid saying that. But his pop explained how when he first met his cousin Jade, he accidentally hit her with his car. Since then, she'd nicknamed Luke after her favorite NASCAR driver.  
  
"What did you say?" Her voice was slow and suddenly breathy.  
  
"He needs your help."  
  
"Whoa! Hang on! Back up a minute!" He heard a creak as she apparently dropped into a chair. "Did you just say you are Earnhardt's _son_?"  
  
"That's right. I can't say too much… over the phone… you know?"  
  
"Right… but… is he okay?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And is…?"  
  
"Yes. They're _both_ okay."  
  
She signed in relief. "What do you need?"  
  
"He wants you to locate his father. His _real_ father. He says you may know people, who can find him quickly?"  
  
Seemed his pop wasn't the only one who'd been in trouble with the law. Apparently, Jade was estranged from the Snyder family after inadvertently driving a getaway car in an armed robbery.  
  
 _So awesome!_  
  
Luke believed Jade was innocent. But she'd burned too many bridges with the other members of her new found family; and she no longer had contact with them.   
  
However, Luke was sure Jade would know somebody who could get her in contact with Damian.   
  
"I don't know…" she uncertainly replied. "I don't really roll with that crowd anymore."  
  
"Please Cousin Jade… All we need is for him to meet us some place…"  
  
A further silence ensued. "Give me the number of that payphone you're at."  
  
Leo read out the number.  
  
"Can you wait there? Should only take me an hour or so."  
  
"Yes." Leo smiled. "Thank you."  
  
While he guarded the payphone, terrified someone else might try to use it, Leo wondered whether he could risk a few minutes to step outside and let his parents know of the impending wait. He knew how on edge they both were.  
  
In the end, he decided to sit tight; and he was glad he did. Jade called back quicker than expected.  
  
She gave him Damian's instructions; and just before they hung up she said, "Send them my love."  
  
…  
  
 **Arlington, Texas, HQ Three, 2019**  
  
Archie stood over a large map, trying with Williams' help, to chart out potential search grids based on where they thought Snyder and Mayer might be headed.  
  
The case room buzzed with activity, as investigators tried to piece together what little evidence they'd been able to obtain from the trailer, the garage and the storage locker.  
  
Everything they did find simply pointed back to information they already knew. There was nothing to indicate where the fugitives might have gone.  
  
 _Sure would help if we got the press involved._  
  
Every law enforcement agency around the region had been made aware of the situation and were told to keep a look out for two men and a boy traveling in a white van. However, Archie knew the value of public vigilance and couldn't help but wonder why the case was being silenced.  
  
"Holy shit!" Johnny Moore exclaimed, sitting upright and rubbing both hands over his shaved head.  
  
Moore was one of the agents monitoring the FBI phone trace on the Grimaldi Shipping Lines' offices in Chicago. Several surveillance teams confirmed sightings of Damian Grimaldi.  
  
"What is it, Moore?" Blithe asked with interest, making his way over to Moore's desk.  
  
"A call came in to Damian Grimaldi's direct line from a Jade Taylor saying she wanted to meet up. I didn't think anything of it at first, but when I listened in… it seemed a little weird..."  
  
"Weird how?" Williams asked, looking up from a load of paperwork.  
  
"Their conversation was guarded… seemed like code… you know?"  
  
Both men nodded.  
  
"Anyway..." Moore continued. "Just to be sure, I ran this Jade Taylor through the system. Her name came up in connection to a criminal investigation… _in Oakdale_."  
  
Blithe and Williams looked at each other.  
  
"And guess who happens to be listed as Jade Taylor's next of kin?" Moore teased. "None other than Lily Snyder! Mother to Luke Snyder and Taylor's aunt no less!"  
  
"Hmm," Williams hummed, stroking his chin. "Now why would Luke's cousin suddenly be in contact with Mr. Grimaldi?"  
  
"Only one reason I can think of!" Blithe grinned in excitement.  
  
"Did you get the location, Moore?" Williams asked.  
  
"I did! Tomorrow… Place called Dot's Diner on Route 67 near Marshfield, Wisconsin."  
  
"Great job! Can you work on getting us a warrant to tap this Jade Taylor's phone?"  
  
"Already on it!"


	22. Chapter 22

**Oakdale, Illinois, Oakdale Memorial Hospital, 2019**  
  
It took Dr. Christopher Hughes 30 minutes longer than normal to leave his house that morning. He couldn't pull himself away from the television where a news bulletin speculated on whether Sen. Charles Marsden had any prior knowledge of certain military studies into chemical warfare.  
  
 _You can bet your ass he does!_  
  
The subject matter brought up dark memories for Chris. It had taken 10 long years to bury them deep enough at least to continue somewhat of a normal existence. But he never forgot. He was reminded every time he reached over his shoulder to scratch an itch or massage a tired muscle and his fingers brushed the scar. He still had nightmares.  
  
He wasn't sure why that should be the case. Really all he remembered from that day was one minute reviewing a file of results and the next minute… blackness… screaming… wide eyes…  
  
Still… he couldn't ever shake that feeling that sat like stones in his gut… that feeling that his survival was an accident.  
  
He still thought about Luke Snyder.  
  
This was especially prevalent when he saw the Snyders at social functions or around town. He felt a lot of guilt about his silence over the years. But it was regulated… the law. Besides, how would speaking out help?  
  
His late arrival in the lab earned him a stern look from his aging father; Memorial Hospital's former Chief of Staff Dr. Bob Hughes, stopping by the lab on his way to attend a board meeting.  
  
Consequently, Chris was running behind on getting the lab results back to the anxious police detectives working on a homicide just south of town.  
  
He carefully slid the Petri dish under the microscope and adjusted the height; peering through the lens.  
  
"Sample 156… taken from the lung contents," he muttered aside to his assistant Sade, who carefully recorded Chris's findings on the official police case form.  
  
The tiny creatures he could see swimming in sweet obliviousness to the massive world they inhabited were thankfully well known to Chris. It would at least be an easy one.  
  
"We have a subdivision of Verrucomicrobia here. Found commonly in one of three states." He sat up and stretched. "Um…" He squeezed the bridge of his nose where a headache had been forming since he saw the news report. "Illinois, Missouri and Tennessee. It is my professional opinion the victim died from drowning in a pond or lake or some similar body of still natural water."  
  
He reached over for the next sample but was stopped from slipping it under the scope by a light knock on the lab door.  
  
"Come in," he called.  
  
Nurse Alison Stewart stuck her head round the door.  
  
"Alison!" Chris smiled at his nephew's girlfriend. She was a sweet person and, Chris suspected, far too good for lazy good for nothing Casey. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Sorry to disturb you Chris," she apologized, smiling her hello to Sade. "But there's a phone call on line three? He says it's urgent he speak with you."  
  
Chris frowned. "Did he say who it was?"  
  
"No, I'm sorry. I tried to get a name but he wouldn't tell me. He had a strange accent though… Said it was very important he speak with you personally."  
  
Chris sighed. "Probably a cold call… No worries I'll take it in my office. Thanks Ali."  
  
"Anytime…" She smiled and closed the door softly behind her.  
  
Chris slipped off the latex gloves he was wearing. "Shouldn't be long, Sade."  
  
"No problem," Sade assured him. "I have some paperwork to file anyway."  
  
He nodded and entered his office at the back of the lab. The yellow light on line three rapidly blinked on and off, on and off.  
  
He didn't know why but for some reason he felt a sudden icy dread creep over him. He lifted the receiver but hesitated in pressing the call button. His finger hovered over it and a shiver passed down his spine. He thought he felt the scar throb on his back.  
  
Taking a deep breath he accepted the call. "Hello?"  
  
"Dr. Hughes?"  
  
"Speaking."  
  
"We must meet. There is a car waiting for you outside Exit B off the Main Pavilion."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Alison was right. The voice was heavily accented and distinctly no-nonsense. "This is very important Dr. Hughes. I don't have time to waste."  
  
Chris was just about to tell the man where he could shove it, when the voice spoke again.  
  
"You have a beautiful wife, Doctor."  
  
Chris gasped in horror. "W…what?"  
  
"Katie is it?" the voice continued. "She drives that little yellow car to WOAK the same time every day… Doesn't she? And... Jacob? He's your stepson, correct?"  
  
"Okay that's enough!" Chris exploded. "I don't know what kind of fucking game you're playing but-"  
  
"Oh… I assure you… this is no game. Anything but..."  
  
There was a pregnant pause. The threat was clear and Chris felt his fear level spike.  
  
"Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Chris hesitated. But he knew he had no choice.  
  
"Doctor? Are you still with me?" the voice persisted.  
  
"Yes!" he hissed.  
  
"Good. Exit B. Five minutes!"  
  
The line went dead.  
  
The phone dropped to the table with a loud clang, as Chris took off for the elevators; leaving Sade in the lab, mouth gapped open in surprise.  
  
The 'car' turned out to be a high-spec black Mercedes Benz with darkened windows. A large muscular man wearing a well-tailored Italian suit and chauffer cap opened the back door, as Chris approached.  
  
Chris shuddered. This felt exceptionally mob-like to him and he had images of his bloated corpse floating downriver.  
  
He dipped his head into the backseat and then gasped in surprise. He didn't know the man sitting opposite him personally, but he definitely knew him by sight and reputation.  
  
"I'm sorry for the vague threat, Dr. Hughes." It was the same voice as on the phone. "Do you know who I am?"  
  
"Damian Grimaldi."  
  
Damian smiled. "That is correct. Please… you have nothing to fear. I am not here to harm you or your family."  
  
The door was shut behind him.  
  
"Why _are_ you here?" Chris asked, distinctly uneasy.  
  
 _He can't know! Surely he can't!_  
  
The smile faded. "I think you know."  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
"Maybe I do," Chris replied, using his training to hide his anxiety. "But the question is… how do you?"  
  
Damian laughed as the driver got in and started up the engine. "May I call you Chris?"  
  
Chris nodded.  
  
"Chris, I'm not where I am in this life by accident. I have eyes and ears all over. I have my ways. You understand?"  
  
"How long have you known about me?"  
  
"Since my son's escape. I've spent a lot of time and resource investigating what happened that day."  
  
"Okay… so… why now?"  
  
Damian sighed and looked out the window at the sleepy town of Oakdale passing by the window. "I had hoped I'd not be forced to become more involved in this matter; that we could lay the whole sorry incident to rest. But it seems my son has played his card."  
  
Chris sat up straight. "He contacted you!"  
  
"Yes… He wants to meet."  
  
"When?"  
  
"In the next few hours. We are on our way there now…"  
  
"What?" Chris exclaimed. "Hell no! Stop the car and let me out… Now!"  
  
"How well do you know my son?" Damian ignored Chris's panic entirely, his voice remaining even and unconcerned.  
  
"Not that well. He and my nephew, Casey, were school friends. I saw him around. That's about it."  
  
"But from what you _do_ know…" Damian continued, looking directly at him. "Do you believe my son capable of gunning down a room full of people."  
  
Chris was silent for a moment. He rubbed his thighs nervously; taking his time. But finally he replied, "No. I never believed it. I always thought the whole thing stank of a cover up. But… if you've investigated things as thoroughly as you say, then you understand the position I was in at the time?"  
  
Damian nodded.  
  
Chris sat back in the leather seat; stomach churning with nerves. "Look, Damian… I'm not really sure how I can help. Even if I did speak up, there's no proof. It's all my own speculation."  
  
"Maybe that would have been true back then… But…"  
  
"The news this morning… That was you!" Chris suddenly realized. "You leaked information about the senator?"  
  
Damian failed to confirm Chris' allegation, choosing instead to offer a sly smile.


	23. Chapter 23

**Denver, Colorado, En Route, 2019**  
  
They risked driving the van as far as Denver, a city large enough to have a few cheap used car dealerships.  
  
Luke left Noah and Leo hidden with the van in an underground car park, while he jogged the three blocks up the road to a vehicle lot called Great Little Cars.  
  
The cheapest car on the lot was a 2007 silver Ford Focus ZX3 with 113,000 miles on the speedometer. Using his specialist knowledge on cars, honed from years working at the garage, Luke managed to talk the dealer down to $6,750.  
  
He purchased the car in cash under the alias, Ryan Hall, just in case the van was discovered before they had a chance to meet Damian. Then picked up burgers, fries and soft drinks at a nearby McDonald's Drive-In, before returning to the garage to collect Noah and Leo.  
  
"Yes!" his son exclaimed; hungrily eyeing the familiar white, yellow and red take-out bags. He climbed behind the passenger seat to the back of the two-door car; shifting up behind Luke to make room for his other longer-legged father to push the front passenger seat back.  
  
Luke watched Noah in the rear view mirror transferring two large blue bags of supplies and other items from the van to the trunk of the car, before climbing in beside his husband.  
  
"All set?" Luke asked.  
  
"As ready as we'll ever be."  
  
With a mouthful of burger, Leo muttered, "Couldn't you have found a cooler ride, Pop? This is like… a mom's car or somethin'!"  
  
"Beggars can't be chooses, Leo," Noah stated, closing the door and surreptitiously slipping his handgun along with a box of bullets into the glove compartment.  
  
"It was the best I could do with the money," Luke replied; a little disappointed.  
  
"Awe, Pop," Leo soothed, slurping his cola. "I was only kiddin! You did good!"  
  
"Thanks for that important vote of approval," Luke laughed.  
  
As the car left the dark sanctuary of the underground garage and into the bright Denver sunlight, it became official. They'd chosen the path less traveled. It was dark and unknown and impossible to plan out. But, at the end the long stretch, if they squinted their eyes just so, they could make out a feint and faded circle of light; the possibility of freedom.  
  
They followed Route 80 across central Nebraska, reaching Omaha at around 5:30 a.m. They stopped for a short break at a 24 hour roadside service station, where Leo ran inside to pay for their gas and pick up a few snacks and drinks for the road. Then they were off again; Noah taking over the driving.  
  
As they crossed the border into Illinois, Luke peered over at Noah and their eyes met. They shared a quick squeeze of fingers; Luke tearing up at the familiar landscape of home.  
  
Noah felt it too. He may not have spent his childhood in Illinois like Luke. But the Snyder family and the farm had begun to feel like home to him, even during the short time he'd stayed there.  
  
They wound down the windows and breathed deeply the familiar smells of vast farmland; of their younger selves; of home.  
  
When they reached the outer limits of Des Moines, Noah took the exit onto Route 35, following the road north where it would eventually meet Route 90 taking them further east toward Marshfield.  
  
Noah estimated they'd reach the town sometime in the early hours of the morning.  
  
…  
  
 **Marshfield, Wisconsin, Dot's Diner, 2019**  
  
The black Mercedes drew up outside Dot's Diner around 9 a.m. Agent Adrian Williams sat in one of the surveillance vans with Police Chief Blythe. He'd brought Blythe along on the flight even though Blythe had no jurisdiction in Wisconsin.  
  
The man had become a textbook on the case, earning Adrian's growing respect. Additionally, Adrian was beginning to enjoy Blythe's company. The older man reminded Adrian of his own father; himself a great and formidable police officer, who died two years before.   
  
"Careful does it," Adrian instructed his team by radio. "Everybody hold their positions."  
  
The diner and small parking lot was crawling with undercover FBI agents. Some impersonated customers on the inside, while others milled around outside doing mundane things like filling up on gas or buying the paper.  
  
They'd had agents scoping the place ever since the location was discovered the day before. However, there'd been no reported sightings of anybody matching the description of either Luke Snyder or Noah Mayer entering or leaving the establishment.  
  
Running the Mercedes' plates through the Illinois Department of Motor Vehicles revealed the car was indeed registered to Grimaldi Shipping Lines.  
  
As if to mock them, it sat outside the diner with its engine running for a full 15 minutes.  
  
"I don't like it!" Adrian told Blythe. "Feels like they're stalling or something!"  
  
Finally, the driver stepped out the car. He walked around to the opposite back door; and opened it so that none other than the impeccably-dressed Damian Grimadi himself, could step out into the sunshine.  
  
"Well… well… look who we have here…" Blythe muttered.  
  
Damian seemed to make a show of being there. He even moved out from behind the car and hung around on the curb for a while.  
  
"What the hell's he doing?" Adrian moaned.  
  
Eventually, the Maltesian nodded at his driver and entered the diner alone.  
  
The radio crackled into life. "This is Agent Tulley. We have a sighting on Grimadi. Please advise. Over."  
  
"Maintain covert surveillance," Adrian instructed the agents inside the diner. "Hopefully we're just waiting for them to show. Over."  
  
Internally he was beginning to doubt they would.  
  
…  
  
 **Marshfield, Wisconsin, Friendly Valley Chicken Farm, 2019**  
  
It was strange being back at the place where they'd been reunited after months of trial and separation. It was funny how the smell had stayed with Luke; a manifestation of how he'd felt that entire day back in 2009.  
  
As their vehicle approached, two large men in suits opened the double doors of a nearby barn and guided them to park inside. But as they made their way out of the barn, one of the men stepped in front of Leo, placing a large palm on the boy's chest.  
  
"What is _this_?" He asked flatly, staring down at Leo, who stood tiny compared to him.  
  
Luke spun around and, seeing the man's hand on his son, reached over to push the thug's arm away.  
  
"It's a boy," he sarcastically replied, pulling Leo protectively behind him. "One that you _will never_ lay a hand on again. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"We were not informed of any boy," the man replied, clearly not at all intimidated by Luke's glare.  
  
"Yeah, well, there _is_ one! Get over it!" Luke sharply replied.  
  
Damian's man eyed Leo up and down with distinct annoyance, but finally decided he was of little threat and simply nodded. "So be it."  
  
He indicated toward one of three large warehouses. Luke held out one of his hands for Noah and his other for Leo, surprised when his son actually took it. Keeping close, they followed Damian's men into the building.  
  
This warehouse was actually an office complex for the Friendly Valley Chicken Distribution Company. It was a working day and the various office clerks went about their daily function without so much a raise of heads to their presence.  
  
 _This must be one of Damian's many side operations._  
  
Luke could tell Noah was thinking the same thing; he nodded when Luke looked his way.  
  
They were led down a corridor of offices to a boardroom on the end, where Damian's men stood back; allowing them to enter alone.  
  
A solitary man sat at the far end of a long boardroom table. He was older; much thinner and his light-brown hair longer. But Luke instantly recognized his best friend's uncle.  
  
"Chris?"  
  
"Hello, Luke."  
  
"What are _you_ doing here? Where's Damian?"  
  
"The Feds were having him followed. It's too dangerous for your father to meet with you. He sent me instead."  
  
"First of all, he's not my father. Not in any way that counts. And second of all… you?" Luke frowned. "I… I'm sorry… I don't understand..."  
  
Chris sadly nodded. "I think you guys better take a seat. But before you do that…" Chris stood to approach them and extended his arm for Noah. "Hi, I'm Chris Hughes. We've never met but…"  
  
Noah nodded in surprise, shaking the man's hand. "You're Casey's uncle? Dr. Bob's son?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
"Yes I remember Casey saying something about you working in Africa?"  
  
Chris seemed to dodge that question by addressing Leo, who peered at Chris from behind Noah's back.  
  
"And who might this be?"  
  
"Um," Leo stepped out and extended his hand just as his fathers had taught him. "Leo… um… Suthe… um…"  
  
 _Poor kid doesn't even know what to call himself anymore…_  
  
"This is Leo," Luke quickly stepped in, placing his hands on Leo's shoulders. "Our son."  
  
Surprised, Chris considered the similarities between Leo and Noah for a moment. "I see."  
  
"It's a really long story," Luke told him. "One we don't have the time to tell right now."  
  
"No." Chris agreed. "Please, take a seat. I'll explain everything."  
  
Chris returned to the head of the table while Luke and Noah sat beside each other close to him. Leo took a seat opposite his parents, nose buried in his GameBoy.  
  
Chris began by directly addressing Noah. "You mentioned Africa?"  
  
Noah nodded.  
  
"The truth is… I was never _in_ Africa."  
  
"What?" Luke asked surprised.  
  
"What my family didn't know… what they still don't know..." Chris took a deep breath. "…was that I worked on a secret project for the Army."  
  
" _You_?" an astounded Luke asked. " _You_ work for the Army?"  
  
"I did."  
  
"Okay…" Luke thoughtfully replied. "But… what has that got to do with us?"  
  
"You have to understand, Luke," Chris was using his professional voice; the one Luke remembered Dr. Bob using during routine medical checkups. "I was unconscious for weeks. When I woke up I was… everything was confusion and… I was… I was disorientated… I was a mental mess really…"  
  
"Wait, wait, wait…" Noah interrupted in staccato, holding out both hands. "When you woke up?"  
  
Chris took a deep breath and pursed his lips before dropping his bombshell. "I was there."  
  
Luke stared at Chris, as the implications of what he was saying began to sink in. The revelation even had Leo neglecting his game to listen with interest.  
  
"There… as in…?" Noah breathed.  
  
Chris swallowed hard. "My specialty is Micro Biology. In 2006, I was recruited by the army to work secretly on a joint project with the FBI… studying certain biological weaponry. My involvement was extremely top secret." He looked directly at Noah. "In 2008, I was working under your father in the lab at Patton."  
  
"Oh my God," Luke whispered under his breath, mouth agape. "So… when you say you were _there_ … you mean… you mean…"  
  
Chris nodded, looking pained at having to relive his memories. "I lived and worked on the base. I was in the lab the day of the shooting. I was shot in the back. I never saw a thing… I mean… I didn't see the gunmen."  
  
A loaded silence fell. Leo sat nervously fiddling with his belt buckle.  
  
"We didn't do it…" Luke abruptly interrupted the tension. "You didn't ask so… in case you think…"  
  
Chris smiled and shook his head, holding up one hand. "It's okay, Luke. I never really thought you did…"  
  
"What?" Noah spoke up this time, growing angrier by the second. He shot up from his chair. "You _never_ believed it was us?"  
  
"Well… no," Chris confirmed. "I _know_ Luke… maybe not well, but enough to know he's no killer. And… I did briefly consider that perhaps it was all on you, Noah, but… after talking to the Snyders and hearing all about you… the way they spoke about you… I realized something was wrong."  
  
"Why have you waited until now to tell us?" Noah accused. "Why didn't you come forward at the time?"  
  
"I should have done that. You're right." He conceded. "I was going to. After you were sentenced, I made up my mind to speak out… But then… you vanished… and…"  
  
"And what?" Noah bitterly asked. "You thought perfect, right? Everything's nicely swept under the rug? You didn't have to get involved?"  
  
"Noah," Chris was calm in the face of Noah's anger. "You have every right to hate me for the choice I made. But really, all I could tell the authorities was that I didn't believe you did it. That's it! I couldn't prove anything. Besides, I was sworn to secrecy by federal law. As far as anybody was concerned, I was never even there!"  
  
"But you _were_ there!" Noah insisted.  
  
"My only defense, Noah, is… It was _clearly_ suggested to me what would happen if I ever admitted to being there that day. I was _shot_ in the _back_ … you know? And just like you and Luke… I wasn't supposed to live. It's a weak excuse, I know, but… I was scared."  
  
"Noah…" Luke said quietly, with unusual composure, indicating with his head that Noah should take a seat.  
  
Noah hesitated a moment but then dropped back down, arms crossed.  
  
"Okay." Luke closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "We can't worry about the past now. What's done is done! We can only deal with the future. We need to lay everything down. We need to know what you know, Chris. And come up with a plan."  
  
Chris nodded and placed both his hands flat on the table, as though offering himself up to them in some way. "All I know, is that something happened between Senator Marsden and the colonel."  
  
Noah looked up with interest. "Senator Charles Marsden?"  
  
Chris nodded. "A few days leading up to the shooting, the two of them had a major argument over something. I couldn't hear what they were saying. But from where I was working, I could see them going at it in the colonel's office. Your father was pretty pissed off about something, Noah."  
  
"I knew it!" Luke exclaimed. "I knew that creep had something to do with it!"  
  
Noah shook his head, "No. I can't believe that! Charles and my father were like brothers! My father saved his life in 'Nam for God's sakes! Charles was my father's best man at his wedding and visa-versa! He wouldn't have hurt the colonel. I'm sure of it!"  
  
Luke previously tried several times to argue this point with Noah. But Noah held fast to his belief that the senator would never deliberately harm them; that there had to be some other explanation. Even when their lawyers looked into their story, and were able confirm that Marsden wasn't at the base but in New York on a business emergency, Noah still couldn't accept it.   
  
"Have you seen the news over the past day at all?" Chris asked.  
  
Luke and Noah shook their heads.  
  
"Damian leaked information to the press suggesting that in 2007, Senator Marsden sat on the board of a major weapons manufacturer while also strong arming the military into using a specific product. There are reports of bio-weapons being used in the Ghazni province in Afghanistan; a small town called Moqori. Hundreds of innocent villagers died… But the US Army denies it was them that who set off the devices."  
  
"And how's that linked to us?" Luke asked, a sinking feeling building in his gut.  
  
"They were biological agents similar to the ones we were studying in Oakdale."  
  
"Holy shit!" Luke whispered under his breath.  
  
Leo's eyes widened. He'd never heard either father swear so much before now.  
  
"So…" Luke began, scratching his chin. "Let's assume the colonel discovers that his good friend, Charlie, has somehow authorized this illegal testing… and he… he…"  
  
"…he threatens to expose the senator," Chris finished.  
  
Luke nodded. "So… the colonel basically boxes the senator in. He leaves Marsden with no choice but to eliminate him. And…" Luke's eyes connected with Noah's. He could see a tiny light of understanding flicking on inside the blue despite Noah's reluctance to believe it. "Who better to blame it on than the colonel's recently estranged gay son and his lover?"  
  
"That's bullshit!" Leo angrily exclaimed.  
  
Both Luke and Noah glared a warning at him.  
  
"Watch your mouth!" Luke ordered.  
  
"What?" Leo asked with a shrug. "I was just saying!"  
  
Noah seemed to grow smaller in his seat as the truth he'd denied for so long dawned and became real.  
  
"Bubby," Luke softly continued. "The moment he found out you were gay, the senator wrote you off. You became nothing to him… _We_ were nothing to him…"  
  
"You and all the people working in the lab that day..." Chris agreed, "...were just collateral damage in Marsden's private war."  
  
Noah rubbed his face in both hands. "Fuck… I thought the reason he chose not to stand up for us, was because of his position in government. I never wanted to think he set us up on purpose."  
  
Luke shook his head; massaged the back of Noah's neck and whispered, "I'm so sorry…"  
  
Noah looked back up. "So… that would explain why they couldn't find the shooting range. When we tried to explain the gunshot residue… and the fingerprints and…"  
  
Chris nodded. "It was all set up... covered up... all of it. Marsden denied even being there that day."  
  
"Deep down…" Noah told Chris. "I guess I always knew it was the only thing that made sense… I just wanted to believe..." Noah leant his elbows on the table; and ran his fingers through his hair. "I needed to believe he cared."  
  
"So what now?" Luke asked, still softly rubbing Noah's neck. "How do we prove it?""  
  
We need to get back into the military base," Chris replied. "We need to find the colonel's old files, assuming Marsden didn't destroy them all. We also need to locate this shooting range you say exists. If we can find those two things, along with my testimony, we may just have enough to prove somebody _else_ had motive to kill that day."  
  
...  
  
 **Marshfield, Wisconsin, Dot's Diner, 2019**  
  
Hours past as Grimaldi sat alone at a table reading the morning paper; drinking coffee; seemingly relaxed and carefree.  
  
Eventually, he slowly folded the paper, laid it down on the table, rose and left the diner. His car was still waiting outside.  
  
"Shit!" Adrian exclaimed quickly pressing the broadcast button. "Move in! Don't let him leave!"  
  
As Adrian approached the scene, it was obvious Grimaldi wasn't in the least bit surprised by the sudden federal enforcement approach on his person.  
  
"Damian Grimaldi?" Adrian asked; realizing only afterward how stupid the question was, since the answer was obvious.  
  
"That is correct," the man replied with a slight all-knowing smirk.  
  
"Agent Williams, FBI." Adrian flashed his badge.  
  
"Good day, Agent Williams. What seems to be the problem?"  
  
"We have reason to believe you are aiding two escaped fugitives!"  
  
"Since when is an innocent cup of coffee a crime, Agent Williams?" Grimaldi simply asked.  
  
"Who were you here to meet?"  
  
"I don't really see how that's any of your business, but seeing as it's of no consequence… I was due to meet an old friend of mine from Oakdale. However, it seems we may have had our wires crossed, since she never turned up."  
  
"Name?"  
  
"Jade." Grimaldi smiled just like a jackel. "Jade Taylor."  
  
Adrian narrowed his eyes at the man.  
  
"Now…" Grimaldi continued. "…unless you have good reason to keep delaying me from my business, I suggest you tell your men to stand down."  
  
 _Fuck! He's used himself as a decoy!_  
  
Realizing he had no option, Adrian reluctantly waved his hand and his men pulled back.  
  
"Have a nice day." The Maltesian grinned before entering his vehicle. They watched the car drive away into the distance.  
  
"Set up roadblocks!" Adrian yelled. "I want fucking roadblocks at every exit! They're here somewhere! I can feel it!"


	24. Chapter 24

**Marshfield, Wisconsin, En Route, 2019**  
  
They left Dr. Hughes at the warehouse. Leo didn't understand everything about what was said. But he knew his fathers feared the doctor's life might be in danger should the FBI catch wind of their collaboration. The plan was that Chris would meet them later in a separate vehicle.  
  
The three adults had decided not to travel to Oakdale just yet. Rather they first wanted to search for clues in Branson, where Leo's grandfather, Winston, was previously stationed.  
  
Leo's dad thought there was a distinct possibility that the colonel may have stored stuff in Branson before he transferred to Oakdale. If that was the case, there was also the slight chance that the senator may have overlooked them.  
  
As his pop drove, Leo nervously watched his dad loading the clip of his gun with bullets. He recalled the first moment he saw his father with the gun and what his father had said to him in the van that day. The more Leo considered this the more the subject began to grate on his nerves.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Yeah, Bud?" The clip made a loud clicking sound as Noah slipped another bullet under the spring.  
  
"Would you _really_ shoot a cop?"  
  
Noah glanced over the back seat at him. "Not willingly."  
  
"But… if one got in the way… tried to take me or Pop?"  
  
"Leo, there is only one acceptable reason to kill somebody. And that's in self defense."  
  
Leo saw it then in his father's eyes. The truth. He didn't like it.  
  
Noah sighed, placing the gun in the glove compartment and turning back around. "What's troubling you, Kid?"  
  
"It's just… I mean… don't you care?"  
  
"Leo, please don't-" Luke tried but Noah stopped him with a hand on Luke's shoulder.  
  
"Luke," Noah said, apparently unfazed. "He has a right to ask these questions."  
  
"They're just guys doing their job, Dad." Leo continued, avoiding eye contact. "What if they've got kids at home? Kids like me?"  
  
His dad's eyes darkened and he flinched at Leo's words. "Leo… I've tried to explain why-"  
  
"You've explained why you lied!" Leo felt his voice getting louder, a sickening mix of fear and anger rising up all of a sudden. It was as though he'd simply held these feelings at bay for as long as he could. Like a volcano, mixing and swirling and expanding under the earth, to suddenly and unexpectedly erupt at the strangest time. "You never explained about the whole killing people part!"  
  
"Leo, your dad's not going to shoot anybody," Luke said.  
  
Leo met his pop's eyes in the rear view mirror. "That's not what _he_ said!" Leo shook his head and glared back at Noah. " _He_ said he'd kill to protect us! Well fucking great! He starts shooting people and then he gets killed and… and you… and… and then I'm… I'm…"  
  
Leo couldn't even say it. He couldn't even contemplate a world without either Pop or Dad in it. During this outburst, he looked away so they wouldn't see his tears. He was angry at himself for crying.  
  
 _Only girls cry!_  
  
But when he lifted his head back up, he was shocked to find his dad was crying, too.  
  
And so was his pop.  
  
Noah opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly Luke's eyes widened and he shouted, "Noah!"  
  
Noah's head whipped round to face the front.  
  
Through the windscreen, a few miles down the straight country road, their eyes locked on a police roadblock too late for them to turn around without being noticed.  
  
"What do we do?" Luke asked, knuckles clenching around the steering.  
  
Leo sat back in the seat; bracing himself.  
  
Noah stared at the flashing lights of the two parked police cruisers, as they drove the Ford steadily closer. A police office was waving his arm to direct them off the road; and into the emergency lane. Noah said nothing; quickly rolled down his window as though getting ready to speak to the man.  
  
Then suddenly, Noah yelled, "Floor it!"  
  
"What?" Luke screamed.  
  
"I said _floor it_!"  
  
Luke hesitated only a second and then kicked his foot flat, sending the car screeching forward. The officers on the scene were caught completely off guard. But Leo was shocked with how quickly they responded.  
  
Bullets rained into the car, smashing the windows in showers of tiny sparkling shards, as the car raced passed the blockade.

Leo screamed.  
  
"Get down! Get down!" He felt his dad's hand on his shoulder pushing him hard to the floor boards.  
  
Leo held his arms over his ears and gripped the back of this head with his hands. He'd never felt fear like this. His blood ran fast and ice cold and his breath shortened. His hearing seemed to fall into his head and made his heartbeats echo inside his brain.  
  
They were driving at startling speed. He could hear his fathers screaming at each other, but was too terrified to make out what they were saying. Then he heard the siren and he realized they were in a car chase just like 'Grand Theft Auto'... only this was _real_  
  
 _We're gonna die. The police are shooting at us!_  
  
The car suddenly bumped and groaned as they left the tar and headed up an old dirt track. The road twisted and turned and threw Leo all over the back floor and seat of the car. He screamed and cried and begged for it to stop.  
  
Everything was blurred and flashing and painful and too damn fast; like a fairground ride he just wanted to get off.  
  
Eventually, he heard an almighty bang. It was so loud and went on for so long that he risked lifting his head to peer out the back window and see what it was. The police cruiser had ramped up a steep bank, rolled and ended up spinning on its roof.  
  
"Go, go, go!" Noah yelled at Luke.  
  
"Fuck!" Luke repeated over and over, foot still flat on the accelerator. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"  
  
"Leo?" His dad checked, turning almost 90 degrees in his seat to peer over the back. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah," Leo croaked; and then winced as a sharp sting stabbed his ribs. Suddenly, he could feel every painful breath and he wanted to cough but found he had no power to do so.  
  
However, even then he didn't start to panic until he saw the horrified look his dad was giving him.  
  
"Leo?" Noah screamed his name; scrambling all long limbed over and between the two seats. "Leo!"  
  
Luke risked a quick look away from the road only to yell, "Oh God, no!"  
  
The car swerved, as Luke lost concentration and he slammed on breaks to steady them to a stop; quickly releasing the seatbelt and twisting to kneel on the seat.  
  
"No… oh no… please… oh no… oh no…" Noah kept repeating words like a mantra under his breath; pressing his shirt down hard against Leo's chest.  
  
 _When did he take off his shirt?_  
  
Leo wanted to ask what was wrong and for his dad to please stop hurting him so much, but his voice wouldn't come out. His throat burned dry.  
  
"Oh God, Baby! I'm so sorry!" Luke gasped.  
  
 _Sorry for what, Pop?_  
  
His hearing went first. He could tell his parents were yelling at each other and at him. But he couldn't make out any sounds. He decided he was too tired anyway and his eyelids were heavy. He gave up and let them them drop closed and black out the world.  
  
...  
  
 **Marshfield, Wisconsin, Police Roadblock, 2019**  
  
Adrian crouched beside the flattened tire of the police cruiser; shot out by Mayer as the getaway car burst through the blockade. He knew from a recent phone call that the second cruiser could be found a few miles south. But there was no point going there. The fugitives were, once again, long gone.  
  
"Fuck!" he cried out, slamming the roof of the cruiser with his fist. "How are they doing this? How do they keep slipping past us?"  
  
"Well… this was a little more than plain slipping." Blithe jabbed with a wry smile.  
  
Williams glared at him. "Not helping, Archie!"  
  
"You gotta admit… these kids got some gumption! Not everybody would try to run a police road block."  
  
"It's not everybody, who would assassinate a room full of people either!"  
  
He turned his back on Blithe and pulled his cell from his pocket to place the call he dreaded. As Adrian took his grilling, Blithe pretended to be examining the scene.  
  
"What the hell is wrong with you, Agent Williams?" The voice on the other end of the line was saying, "I was willing to accept your first error in letting Snyder go as a fluke! But this is the third time you've allowed them to get ahead of you!"  
  
As FBI Deputy Director, Agent Stanley Marsh continued his tirade, Adrian couldn't help but think how funny it was that Marsh felt he could judge Adrian now, when in 2008 Marsh hadn't been able to do much of a better job.  
  
"One minute you have them, then you don't, then you do again! Which one is it?"  
  
"At the moment…" Adrian sighed. "We don't have them, Sir."  
  
"What about that tail you had on Grimaldi? I thought he was due to meet Snyder?"  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
"I'm sorry Agent Marsh. It would seem Grimaldi anticipated our move to have him followed. He used himself as a decoy. Somebody else must have met with the fugitives."  
  
Marsh was silent for a long time. In his mind, Adrian imagined the man's face, twisted in anger.  
  
"You are making a mockery of this office, Agent Williams! Your work on this case has been amateur to say the least!" Another long silence fell as Marsh let that sink in. "Three days, Agent Williams! That's all you have! Bring me their heads or I'm taking you off this case! And you can spend the rest of your career shuffling papers in Butte! Do I make myself clear?"  
  
 _Crystal._  
  
In the early days of the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover, popular lore had it that agents who botched a job risked exile to the bureau's remote field office in Butte, Montana. That office actually closed in 1989, but the threat stuck and maintained its meaning.  
  
"Yes, Sir." The last time Adrian could remember being so reprimanded was when he was 16 and stole a bottle of his dad's favorite brandy. He surveyed his surroundings; pocketed his phone and turned back to Blithe. "What are we missing, Archie?"  
  
"Two and a half men," Blithe joked.  
  
Adrian actually smiled. Sometimes, he realized, it felt good to drop the control and laugh. Blithe was starting to teach him that.  
  
"Well, we have learnt one thing from all of this," the old man said in an attempt to offer some hope.  
  
"What's that?" Adrian asked.  
  
"These boys have been getting help from Grimaldi. And we can now assume it _was_ Grimaldi who sprung them back in 2009, though I doubt anybody could prove it."  
  
"True," Adrian agreed. "And we know that they met with somebody here in Marshfield."  
  
Adrian paused and tapped his chin for a moment. Then he pulled out his cell and punched a few numbers.  
  
"Agent Moore?" he asked into the phone. "Got another job for you. See if you can find a Grimaldi connection to any of the businesses in the area of Marshfield, Wisconsin."


	25. Chapter 25

**Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin, Black River Memorial Hospital, 2019**  
  
"Faster Luke! You gotta drive faster!"  
  
Luke didn't reply. They both knew he was driving as fast as he dared without crashing; and it was simply blind panic that made Noah demand more speed.  
  
Each rattling breath from their son made Noah want to blow all caution to the wind! But he knew their only hope was to safely find a hospital.  
  
The first turnoff they saw as they rejoined the main road was for Wisconsin Rapids. So that was where Luke headed. Somewhere in that town there _had_ to be a hospital!  
  
"How much further?" Noah asked.  
  
"Um…" Luke wiped away the tears that blurred his vision as he drove. "Last sign said 5 miles."  
  
Noah once again examined his child. Since Leo lost consciousness back on the dirt track, the boy remained still, eyes closed and breathing labored. Noah clambered behind Leo, so the boy lay sideways with his head on his father's chest. He continued to press the balled up T-shirt against the wound on Leo's side.  
  
 _So much blood!_  
  
Every cell in Noah's body shook. Occasionally, he'd bend his neck to kiss the top of Leo's head.  
  
"Hold on, Kid. Please hold on." He ran the back of one hand over Leo's paling cheek. "This is my fault!"  
  
"No it's not!" Luke insisted.  
  
"It is! They only shot at us because I shot first. I thought if I shot out their tires, they couldn't follow…" He thumped his head back into the window. "It was _so_ stupid!"  
  
"Please don't blame yourself," Luke sniffed. "He's gonna be okay! We'll find a hospital and he'll be okay. He _has_ to be."  
  
They drove well over 100 miles per hour and mercifully reached the outskirts of Wisconsin Rapids to find the universal sign for hospital almost immediately on an overhead road sign. Luke followed the directions, until screeching to a halt right outside the emergency entrance at Black River Memorial Hospital.  
  
"It's our son!" Luke blurted to a small gathering of hospital personnel; standing outside enjoying a cigarette. He stumbled from the vehicle and blindly headed for them. "Please! He's only 12 and I think he's dying… He was shot…"  
  
As soon as Luke mentioned Leo was shot, all five medical workers dropped their cigarettes; and jumped into action.  
  
Noah pushed the nearest passenger door open to give them access. As he did Leo stirred and squinted up at him. "Dad?"  
  
"I'm right here, Bud. You're gonna be just fine."  
  
A brawny-looking young man in scrubs bent down to help Noah maneuvre Leo from the vehicle. In the meantime, two of the nurses ran off to find a gurney.  
  
"My name is Jacob Bush." He smiled reassuringly at Noah. "I'm a doctor here. You say your son is 12?"  
  
"That's right," Noah replied.  
  
A strangled sound escaped Noah's throat, when the young doctor scopped the boy up and gently laid him on the gurney. He watched as another young doctor inserted a stethoscope in his ears and leaned over to listen to Leo's heart.  
  
"It's okay," Dr. Bush told Noah softly, helping the tall man stand outside the car. "We're gonna take real good care of him. What is your son's name?"  
  
"Leo." Luke told him, coming to stand next to Noah; seeking solace by taking hold of Noah's shaking hand.  
  
They huddled together, staring at the unbelievable scene playing out before them.  
  
"Please help him," Noah whispered, watching the medical staff at work.  
  
"How long has he been bleeding like this?" Jacob asked, lifting both of their son's eyelids.  
  
"A… um… 20 minutes maybe?" Noah shuddered in reply.  
  
"Is he… will he be okay?" Luke asked, his beautiful brown eyes wide with shock.  
  
Jacob smiled softly, "We're gonna do everything we can. We'll take him inside now to examine the damage. On first sight, it looks to me like a flesh wound. But we'll know for sure once we get started. My real concern is the amount of blood he might have lost."  
  
Luke and Noah followed the moving gurney into the hospital, right up until the door leading to a bank of examination bays. They were told to wait.   
  
Sitting heavily side by side on two of the plastic chairs lining the corridor, Noah looked down to find he was still clutching his blood-soaked T-shirt.  
  
 _Leo's blood._  
  
A few hours ago the most frightening thing they could think of was capture. But this; the chance their son might die; was a far deeper fear than anything else could ever be.  
  
…  
  
 **Marshfield, Wisconsin, Wood County Sheriff's Department, 2019**  
  
Two months, four days and three hours after Agent Adrian Williams took what he thought would be his last puff of cigarette smoke; he found himself leaning against the red brick of the 70s-style structure that made up the headquarters of the Wood County Sheriff's Department.  
  
Adrian used the cheap plastic lighter he'd purchased along with the pack of cigarettes to ignite the end of the white stick he already held in his mouth. He waited for the tobacco to take in a flash of fiery red before drawing in long and deep; holding the smoke there; imagining it swirling around inside his lungs; and then exhaling with satisfaction.  
  
He felt infinitely better.  
  
"Got one for a friend?" Blithe leaned back against the wall beside Adrian, one knee bent up as his foot rested against the brick.  
  
"Didn't know you smoked," Adrian observed, tapping a few cigarettes loose and tipping the box over at the older man.  
  
"I quit," Blithe told him, leaning the cigarette into the flame as Adrian held the lighter for him.  
  
"Me too," Adrian admitted.  
  
They both chuckled.  
  
"Guess we're as good at quitting smoking as we are at catching fugitives!" Blithe joked.  
  
"Yeah," Adrian agreed, staring up at the clear blue sky where a couple of grasshopper sparrows spiraled and soared in search of food in the nearby long grasses.  
  
"What are you thinking, Adrian?" Blithe asked.  
  
Adrian sniffed and kicked himself off the wall, taking a few steps forward before turning back to the police chief. "I just spoke to Marsh, asking for permission to alert the press."  
  
"And he shot you down again, I take it."  
  
"Right."  
  
They stood in thought for a moment.  
  
"And..." Blithe asked, "what you thinking?"  
  
Adrian vigorously ruffled his hair. "I don't know! I just… something feels…"  
  
"Off?"  
  
Adrian stared at Blithe for a moment. "Yeah."  
  
"Yeah," Blithe agreed with a nod. "I've had that feeling since the moment I met Snyder. He just doesn't fit the profile of a cold-blooded killer."  
  
"They never do!" Adrian explained. "In fact, some of the best mass murderers were known for their charm."  
  
"Oh I get that!" The old man agreed. "I do. But I mean... Why?"  
  
Adrian frowned. "Why are the best mass murderers charmers?"  
  
"No, no… I mean, why'd they _do_ it?"  
  
"Snyder and Mayer?"  
  
"Yeah? Here we got two young kids, by all accounts well liked, polite, good grades… Suddenly, they're gunning down a room full of strangers just because they're angry daddy doesn't like gays?"  
  
"Well, we have reports to say Mayer made several forceful attempts to gain access to the base. That he seemed visibly upset at his father's rejection. I mean… people are known to flip their lids in these cases."  
  
"But to such an extreme? Bomb their way in and gun people down? It's madness!"  
  
"No crazier than Columbine or Virginia Tech or Red Lake or any other of those cases, where kids have run off the rails from too much pressure," Adrian argued.  
  
"No true," Blithe agreed. "You're totally right. But here's the rub…"  
  
"Okay…" Adrian leaned back against a parked police cruiser to hear Blithe out.  
  
"Of all the days these boys could pick to storm into a busy research center and cause havoc, they choose the one day when the entire base has been given leave of absence. The entire base except…"  
  
"…except Col. Winston Mayer's team…" Adrian nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"And not only that…" Blithe continued. "But that very same team just happened to have a three-hour staff meeting that very morning. A meeting that would keep them nicely contained within their particular laboratory."  
  
"All seems…"  
  
"… really convenient," Blithe finished.  
  
"Okay," Adrian said. "But… perhaps Noah Mayer knew of this somehow?"  
  
Blithe puffed out a plume of smoke and replied, "The police interviews are unclear on why the boys were there at that specific time."  
  
"Unclear?" Adrian frowned. "Seems like a pretty standard interview question to ask them."  
  
"Evidently, they were not asked."  
  
The two men spent a moment puffing on their individual cigarettes, trying to wrap their heads around a case they both initially considered cut and dry. At least until they started working it themselves.  
  
"Even if we can stand here and pick out these anomalies within the original investigation," Adrian surmised, "it doesn't explain the gunpowder residue on their fingers, their prints all over the weapons. Nor does it explain their arrest within that very same lab. The reports say they were both covered in blood."  
  
Adrian nodded, "Yeah, I know. That's the clincher."  
  
"And anyway," Adrian added, "It's not our job to solve that case. These men have already been tried and convicted. It's our job to bring them in. Dead or alive."  
  
"Agent Williams!" A young officer from the local police force stepped out into the sunshine to address him.  
  
"Yes?" Adrian asked.  
  
The kid looked rather excited and Adrian felt a rush of adrenaline; like he knew this was the next part of the chase.  
  
"Sir. Just had a report from the sheriff down in Wisconsin Rapids. Says staff at the hospital have reported a gunshot admission… Twelve year old called Leo… brought in by two men driving a silver Ford."  
  
Adrian and Blithe shared a glance of agreement.  
  
"Are they still there?" Adrian quickly asked, already heading for his car.  
  
Blithe immediately followed.  
  
"Yes, I believe so, Sir." The young officer told them as he scuttled along behind them. "What should I tell the sheriff?"  
  
Adrian stopped for a moment. "Tell him to keep all hospital exits under surveillance, but not to move in before we get there. This time I'm gonna handle this myself!"


	26. Chapter 26

**Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin, Black River Memorial Hospital, 2019**  
  
"You guys need to get out of there!" Chris warned over the phone. "Pretty soon that hospital's gonna be crawlin' with cops!"  
  
Noah's voice caught in his throat as he tried to reply. He coughed and leaned back against the cool wall, tilting his head and pressing the pay phone to his ear.  
  
This was the end. Nine years running and the final showdown would take place in some backwater hospital in Wisconsin. Only it wouldn't be the scene he'd always imagined. There would be no gunfire, no shouting; no resistance at all.  
  
"We're staying here," Noah softly told Chris, the words sounding foreign to his ears. He watched Luke across the hall; where the blonde sat slumped and emotionally drained in a plastic bucket seat. They hadn't needed to discuss it. Both men knew how this would end.  
  
"You can't be serious?" Chris earnestly replied.  
  
"He's our _son_ , Chris," Noah resigned. "How could we leave?"  
  
He heard Chris sigh with understanding.  
  
"I get it," Chris said. "But I want you to know I'm not gonna stop, okay? Not this time! I'm still going to Branson and I'm gonna find the evidence to free you guys."  
  
Chris's determination made Noah smile a little. He fiddled with the hem of the blue scrub shirt he was wearing; given to him by a kindly nurse. "Thanks, man. It feels good to have backup after all these years."  
  
As he finished off his telephone conversation with Chris, he spotted the young doctor, Jacob, making his way toward them down the stark white corridor that smelled of bleach and antiseptic.  
  
Luke bolted from his seat and they met the doctor halfway down.  
  
"Is he okay?" They asked simultaneously before the doctor could open his lips to speak.  
  
Jacob smiled and nodded. "It was as I suspected. The bullet simply grazed his side. But he lost a lot of blood really quickly. That was what weakened him so badly."  
  
"Can we see him?" Noah anxiously asked.  
  
"Yes. He keeps asking for you. Brave kid. Actually seems more worried about you guys than he is about being shot." Jacob smiled, "He's gonna be fine."  
  
Both men released loud gasps of relief and hugged each other tightly with small laughs.  
  
"Thank you so much Doctor!" Luke exclaimed, vigorously shaking Jacob's hand, "I can't tell you what this means to us!"  
  
"Just doing my job." Jacob winked and then pointed down the hall. "You'll find him in Ward 162. Just down the hall and to the right."  
  
Thanking the doctor one more time, they rushed down the corridor in search of Leo. They found the boy dressed in a spotted hospital gown and sitting up in bed, half-heartedly thumbing through a magazine.  
  
Leo's eyes shone at the sight of them and he grinned widely at Noah's attire in particular. "Geez Dad! You look like you just stepped out of an episode of Gray's Anatomy!"  
  
It was such a physical and mental relief to see Leo so lucid and with much needed color back in his cheeks that Noah had to surreptitiously lean against the side of Leo's bed to hide how wobbly his knees were.  
  
Unlike Luke, who never hid anything. The blonde sat right on the bed beside his son and pulled the boy into such a tight hug the child winced.  
  
"Ouch, Pop! Watch it!"  
  
"Oh my God. Sorry…" Luke pulled back and began a vigorous examination of every part of Leo. "Where did I hurt you? Are you okay?"  
  
Leo just laughed at him while continuing his conversation with Noah. "Sorry 'bout your shirt, Dad."  
  
Noah smiled, "That's okay. Pop hated that one anyway!"  
  
Luke laughed, "I did actually!"  
  
Leo wasn't alone in the ward. His bed was up near the far wall. In the cot beside him was an elderly gentleman with a large hearing aide, bending his head sideways to listen in on their conversation.  
  
Opposite Leo was a woman with a broken arm and leg. She wore earphones and seemed intent on the soap opera they could see playing on her small television screen.  
  
To give them a little more privacy, Noah pulled the curtain around them and sat on a stool on the opposite side of the bed as Luke. He took his son's small hand in his. "I'm so sorry Leo."  
  
"God you guys! Stop! It's not your fault, okay?"  
  
"We took a dangerous risk, Leo," Noah persisted. "And you were hurt because of that."  
  
"Yeah but if you didn't you'd be in prison right now!" Leo said loud enough to convey his frustration, but low enough not to be overheard by Mr. Curious in the next bed. "And that's also why you have to leave me now."  
  
"What?" Luke asked, stunned.  
  
"You _have_ to!" Leo insisted. "Hospitals report shootings by law! I know 'cause I've seen it on TV! The cops will be on their way right now!"  
  
"Leo," Luke shook his head. "We're not gonna leave you."  
  
"But you _have_ to, Pop! I can't go with… I'll slow you down…" Leo's face clouded in panic as he realized what his parents were prepared to do. " _Please_! Dad?" He looked over at Noah, who returned his son's gaze with a growing realization of his own. "You _know_ I'm right!"  
  
"Leo, stop it! Stop it right now!" Luke chocked. "We are not leaving you here on your own and that's final!"  
  
"Don't you see, Pop? They don't _want_ me. I'll be safe. They'll just take me to a home or something and I'll be fine. I can handle it. But I _can't_ handle you guys dying."  
  
Suddenly, Leo looked far older than his 12 years; and Noah could see how quickly their child was being forced to grow up because of this sudden impact on his life. He thought he heard his heart crack a little.  
  
"You and Dad have a real chance here!" Leo continued. "This Chris guy might be able to help you. If you stay they're just gonna separate us anyway? But if you go you can clear your names. There's still a chance if you go."  
  
Noah smoothed his son's long dark bangs from his forehead. "When did you get so grown up, ha?"  
  
"If you guys had stopped for a sec instead of yelling at me all the time, you might have noticed!" Leo joked with a sad sideways smile.  
  
"You think so, ha?" Noah joked back. "Maybe if you behaved yourself we wouldn't have had to yell…"  
  
For all his forced joviality, Noah felt like he might break in two. This had to be one of the hardest things a parent could ever do. He had only to look over at Luke for Luke to realize what he was thinking.  
  
"No!" Luke shook his head. "We stay together! We keep the family together above all else!"  
  
"Luke…"  
  
"That's what we've _always_ said!"  
  
Noah reached over Leo's blanket-clad legs to take hold of Luke's hand. "We've always said that Leo comes first."  
  
"He does!" Luke replied firmly.  
  
"Yes," Noah agreed. "But in this case Baby, leaving _is_ the best thing for him. It's the only way we at _least_ have a chance to be together."  
  
"Promise me you'll try," Leo begged. " _Please_ , Pop!"  
  
Luke looked tearfully into his son's eyes and then back at Noah. He lifted Leo's hand and kissed his fingers. "Shit!"  
  
"Promise me!" Leo repeated.  
  
"Okay," Luke reluctantly whispered, quickly getting a hold on himself. "I promise."  
  
"Me too." Noah tried a brave smile.  
  
Sniffing, Noah stood quickly and pulled a wad of cash from his jean pocket.  
  
"Take this," he told Leo. "Hide it away somewhere safe and make sure nobody sees it. Okay?"  
  
Leo nodded, trying to look brave even as his shuddering breath gave away his fear. He took the money from his father and lifted his feet from under blanket, so he could stick the wad into the side of one sock.  
  
"We'll find you, okay? I promise," Noah told him, pressing a kiss to the top of Leo's head. "Once we've cleared our names. Wherever they take you, we'll find you!"  
  
"I know, Dad," Leo reassured him.  
  
Noah had to hug Leo then. He held onto his precious son for minutes, afraid to let go even as he knew he must. "I love you, Leo."  
  
"I love you too, Dad. And you, Pop."  
  
"I love you, Baby." Luke said, moving in for his turn, once Noah released Leo.  
  
They stood on either side of their son's bed. Each man holding one of Leo's hands while they held each other's. A family circle broken by need rather than by choice.  
  
Eventually, they could no longer afford to stay. With heavy hearts and tear-streaked faces, they left their son's room, only to be brought up short less than 10 yards from two men making their way down the corridor.  
  
One was mid-40s, tall and well suited, with an almost official high forehead and square mouth that screamed FBI. By his side was an older man, slightly overweight, wearing jeans and a checked button down shirt. He had the distinct aura of an out-of-city cop.  
  
Both these men's eyes simultaneously widened in undeniable recognition at the sight of Luke and Noah.  
  
 _Shit!_


	27. Chapter 27

**Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin, Black River Memorial Hospital, 2019**  
  
Instantly recognizing the lawmen from Arlington, it was Luke who took off first, grabbing fistfuls of the loose shirt Noah wore; and pulling the man along behind him in the opposite direction.  
  
"Halt!" Luke heard Agent Williams yell. "FBI! Freeze!"  
  
They darted through the hospital's maze-like corridors; tripping over doctors and patients and carts. The two law enforcement officers were close on their heels; guns drawn and causing havoc as people panicked and screamed and jumped out of the way.  
  
Noah raced ahead of Luke, while Luke paused to pull at two supply carts, blocking the corridor; hoping to slow their pursuers.  
  
"Service stairs!" Noah yelled, pointing at a large metal door at the end of the hall.  
  
Luke nodded and watched Noah disappear through the door.  
  
He reached it a second later, extending his hand to depress the metal bar.  
  
"FBI! Freeze!"  
  
Chest heaving, Luke turned his head to find Agent Williams and Chief Blithe a mere two yards away, guns trained right on him.  
  
His eyes fell back to the door.  
  
"Don't. Even. Think about it!" Agent Williams warned, steadying his handgun.  
  
Heart-hammering, Luke tried to gauge how serious they were.  
  
" _The next time we come eye to eye, Mr. Sutherland, I may not be as forgiving."_  
  
The words Agent Williams spoke that first day back in Arlington haunted Luke now.  
  
"It's time to stop running, Son," Blithe said in a kindly voice.  
  
Luke expelled a short, bitter laugh.  
  
"We stop running we're dead," Luke angrily replied. "You people have no idea what you've done to us!"  
  
"Come on, Snyder!" Williams demanded. "The entire hospital is surrounded. Let us take you both in before one or both of you gets hurt. Look at what has _already_ happened to your son!"  
  
 _Leo! We promised!_  
  
Luke took a deep, considered breath and slowly moved his arms from the door, trying to give the impression of defeat.  
  
"Okay. Okay," he said.  
  
He waited until out the corner of his eye, he saw the slightest relaxation in the stance of the other two men. Then he said a quick internal prayer and barged through the door. He used his entire hip to depress the iron bar on the way through; almost losing his footing entirely.  
  
"Luke?" Noah was on the landing one flight down, anxiously waiting for him.  
  
"Run! Run!" Luke bellowed, taking two stairs at a time, downward toward Noah.  
  
He reached Noah just as Williams and Blithe burst through the door above.  
  
The chase was on; down and down the seemingly endless staircase; footfalls loud and heavy; racing behind them.  
  
"We have both fugitives in sight," Luke heard Williams urgently say into his cell phone. "South service stairs, fourth floor!"  
  
A few more flights and Noah decided enough was enough. He chose a door on impulse and rushed through it. "This way!"  
  
They were faced with another long corridor. Luke knew it was vital they bring this pursuit to an end. They needed to stop and regroup.  
  
 _Think!_  
  
With a flash of inspiration, Luke spun around and examined the door through which they'd come.  
  
"Luke!" Noah complained. "Come on! What are you doing?"  
  
"Yes!" Luke wheezed in triumph when he saw what he wanted. This door was metal, slightly rusty; wide and thick. Near the top right corner was a large iron bolt.  
  
He flipped the bolt locked just in time to hear Williams and Blithe start banging on the other side.  
  
"Good thinking, Baby!" Noah praised, pulling Luke into a quick hug and kissing him on the lips.  
  
Noah paused for a moment, hand in Luke's hair. They shared the pain of a loss they'd both feared would come one day; and the determination to make it right again.  
  
Luke sadly smiled. His mouth was dry; his nose and throat choked. "Not just a pretty face, ha?"  
  
With one more kiss Noah said, "Definitely not… The smartest guy I know! Now come on!"  
  
They hurried into the bowels of the hospital's large laundry depot. Echoing voices caused them to duck behind a wall.  
  
When they cautiously peeked around, they realized they were in a loading bay. Industrial sized trolley carts full of dirty laundry were being wheeled into trucks on their way to being deep cleaned and disinfected at an off-site location.  
  
"Perfect," Luke muttered.  
  
"What is?" Noah suspiciously asked.  
  
"Come on," Luke pulled Noah along by the hand, keeping close to the wall and out of sight from the various maintenance staff, busy with the large loads of sheets, towels, and scrubs among other items.  
  
"Luuuke," Noah drew the name out as they walked. "I know what you're planning and you can forget it!"  
  
"But, Bubby-"  
  
"No way! This is a hospital, Luke! God only knows what's on those sheets!"  
  
By this point, they had climbed some concrete steps onto the raised platform against which the large carts rested. They stared down into each cart, piled high with hospital bed sheets at various stages of white and grey.  
  
Luke stuck both hands on his hips and glared at Noah. "Get in."  
  
Noah glared back. "No."  
  
"Noah," Luke warned. "Get… in…!"  
  
"Luke," Noah insisted, mimicking Luke's tone, brow crinkling with stubborn determination. "I told you… there is no freaking way I'm-"  
  
"We promised Leo!" Luke interrupted, waiting a moment for that to sink in. "Come on! How else are we going to get out unseen?"  
  
"There must be some other way!"  
  
"Now you listen to me!" Luke irritably sighed. "If you don't get in that cart by the time I count five, there'll be no sex for a month!"  
  
Noah pursed his lips at this.  
  
"One," Luke began.  
  
Noah shook his head.  
  
"Two," Luke's eyes narrowed.  
  
Noah's hand covered his mouth.  
  
"Three."  
  
Noah burst out laughing. It felt amazing; incredible that even under these dangerous and heartbreaking circumstances they could still, somehow, find a way to make each other feel better.  
  
"I don't know what you find so funny!" Luke seriously responded. "Four!"  
  
"I don't know what's funnier," Noah explained. "The fact that you're using sex as a weapon, or the fact that you think _you're_ actually _capable_ of withholding it!"  
  
Luke grinned his agreement. "Okay fine! But… you know this is a good idea, right?"  
  
Noah lost the chance to reply when the decision was made for them. The wide doors of the loading bay opened and two delivery trucks backed inside with loud repetitive beeping noises.  
  
As the doors cleared the final distance, they saw at least three police motor cycles parked right outside; cops patrolling the area.  
  
Noah didn't protest; didn't think; just jumped and, like always, Luke followed.  
  
…  
  
They were gone again... as if a wizard waved his magic wand and they disappeared.  
  
 _Avrah kadabra! Poof! Just like that!_  
  
Agent Williams refused to believe it; convinced the two men had found some kind of incredible hiding place within the bowels of the hospital. He had the local cops turn the place inside out; checking everybody who came or went; searching every room, closet… under every bed.  
  
"Adrian, face it, Son." Archie sighed. "They really are long gone!"  
  
"But how?" Williams asked, raising both hands in frustration. "We had every exit covered! How could they disappear without anybody seeing them?"  
  
"Somehow, they did," Blithe reasoned, leaning an elbow on the hospital's main reception desk. "Look... there's no point wasting any further resource on searching this hospital. Time to give it back to the doctors, Adrian."  
  
The agent's shoulders sagged and he expelled a shot of air through his nose.  
  
Archie really did feel for the younger man. Sure, in the beginning, he had disliked the all too serious and seemingly full of himself agent. But in just a few days he'd realized the agent's attitude was merely an extension of the man's incredible work ethic. Adrian Williams was a man, who strived for perfection; a man who really cared about the job. Men like Adrian were rare these days.  
  
It was clear Williams was not used to failure. He'd just so happened to pick up a difficult case, full of strange twists and turns and two slippery fugitives.  
  
"You're right, I know," Williams conceded, running his fingers through his short sandy hair. "I'm gonna get pulled from this case, Archie."  
  
"You haven't been pulled yet, Cowboy! And I'm with you on this until that happens."  
  
Williams massaged the back of his neck. "Thanks. Shouldn't be much longer."  
  
Archie waited while Williams made a few phone calls to update relevant parties on their current situation. He wandered into the center of the corridor and had to quickly dart out of the way as a cleaner pushed past with a cart load of dirty laundry.  
  
She was yards away before the thought hit him.  
  
"Hey! Wait up!" He hurried after her.  
  
"Yes, Sir?" She seemed irritated at the interruption. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Oh, I hope so!" Archie replied. "Where do you take these?"  
  
"Sorry?" She frowned in confusion.  
  
"The dirty sheets and towels… Where do they go?"  
  
"Down the laundry shoot, Sir," she said, as though he was stupid and the answer was obvious.  
  
"And where does the laundry shoot end up?"  
  
She sighed in annoyance. "Housekeeping's Laundry Section, Ground Level, South Side."  
  
"Holy shirt!" Archie exclaimed.  
  
Her eyes widened. "I'm sorry?"  
  
"No… not you… Thank you." Archie smiled, patting the side of her arm. "Thank you very much!"  
  
He let Williams in on his theory. But it was only when they actually reached the laundry depot and saw the size of the main laundry carts, that either of them truly believed it possible. Hospital officials confirmed that the timing of the last laundry pick up coincided perfectly with the disappearance of their couple. That sealed it.  
  
"We need to interview the kid," Williams stated. "Perhaps he knows something about where they may be headed."  
  
But when they reached the ward where nurses said they'd find the 12-year-old gunshot patient; all they found was a curious old man, a disinterested young woman, and an empty sheet-rumpled bed.


	28. Chapter 28

**Washington DC, Washington, J. Edgar Hoover Building, 2019**  
  
Deputy Director Stanley Marsh slammed the phone down on Agent Williams, making his young secretary, Lauren, jump with fright just as she stepped through the doorway.  
  
"God dammit!" Stanley moaned, not at all pleased with the latest developments in the chase.  
  
Truthfully, as much as he threatened to take Williams off the case, Stanley knew he could never do that. The fewer people with knowledge of the details of past events in Oakdale the better. Williams was too busy trying to catch the two fugitives to spend time examining too deeply the events that day back in 2008.  
  
At least that was what Stanley banked on.  
  
He never imaged this would turn into another chase. This was the worst outcome! The longer those two men were out there with the FBI on their heels, the more chance there was for the truth to emerge.  
  
Stanley also wondered how long Senator Marsden could possibly keep the whole nasty business from the press. There already was much speculation about what had taken place in a hospital in Wisconsin.  
  
"What is it Lauren?" he asked, when his secretary remained silent in the doorway.  
  
"There's a call for you on Line Two. Some guy from Information Systems. I tried to get him to speak to me. But he insists that the message he's received is for your ears only."  
  
"Fine." Stanley conceded. "What's his name?"  
  
"Gordon Jones, Sir. Line 2."  
  
He waited for her to leave and pressed the button on his phone. "Hello Mr. Jones. What can I do for you?"  
  
"T…thank you for s…speaking with me directly, Sir."  
  
Stanley rolled his eyes. Even over the phone he could tell this was some skinny-assed, pimple-faced computer geek.  
  
 _Probably still lives with his mother and spends his evenings playing 'World of Warcraft'._  
  
"What do you need from me?" Stanley officiously asked him, hoping that would speed up the conversation.  
  
"W…well, thing is, Sir. I work down in Information Systems? Actually, I'm assistant supervisor… but… I should be supervisor soon…"  
  
 _Oh good God!_  
  
"Yes I know who you are, Mr. Jones. I'm in the middle of an extremely busy case at the moment. So... could you hurry this up?"  
  
"Yes, Sir! Um… today an alarm flagged up on my computer? Somebody accessed an archived group of files which were once under your surveillance."  
  
"A group of files?" Stanley asked, suddenly very interested.  
  
"Yes, Sir. The files are marked Top Secret. You and a Col. Winston Mayer are shown as the owners. The alarm on the file said to notify you personally of any attempt to gain access. I'm not sure it's important, since it was accessed by an FBI source. But I thought you'd want to know… considering the note on file."  
  
 _The Branson files!_  
  
"Do you know who accessed it?" Stanley waited with baited breath.  
  
"Yes, Sir. That's the other odd thing."  
  
"Odd how?"  
  
"This person has FBI clearance on the information, however he's listed as civilian _and_ inactive. How is that possible?"  
  
"Name?" Stanley demanded with frustration.  
  
"It's a Dr. Christopher Hughes, Sir."  
  
Stanley didn't wait to say goodbye, he disconnected the call and immediately rang for his assistant.  
  
"Sir?" she asked.  
  
"Lauren, as quick as possible, I need you to find the home telephone number for a Dr. Christopher Hughes. Check the hospitals around Oakdale, Illinois first."  
  
"No need, Sir." She replied, "I've just typed his name into the system and it's brought up his history."  
  
"Thata girl!" Stanley grinned. At least there was one person on his staff he could always rely on. "Patch me right through will you?"  
  
The dial tone was deep and long and seemed to go on forever. Finally he heard somebody pick up.  
  
"Hello Hughes rest-ti-dent, Jacob Snyder speaking." It was the voice of a young boy.  
  
 _Great!_  
  
"Good day, young man, is your mommy or daddy home?"  
  
"Mommy can't come to the phone right now." It was the typical scripted response.  
  
"What about your daddy?"  
  
"Na-a." The boy simply replied. "Daddy is in Whist-con-son-in-nin."  
  
Stanley felt sick. A feeling that didn't happen to him all that often.  
  
"Wisconsin?" he clarified.  
  
"Yeah!" The small voice replied in triumph. "What you said!"  
  
He heard a woman's voice in the background, "Jacob, Baby, who's that on the phone?"  
  
"I donno!" The boy yelled back.  
  
Stanley heard a set of women's heels approaching. But he didn't wait for her to reach her child and the phone. He quickly hung up and grabbed his cell.  
  
 _This isn't good. This can only mean one thing._  
  
Snyder and Mayer were preparing to fight back. And they had help.  
  
On the other end of the phone, Adrian Williams began to speak before Marsh even got a word in, "Agent Marsh! I was just about to contact you, Sir. We think we know how they snuck out of the hospital. And we think we know where they might have been today."  
  
"Don't worry about that!" Stanley snapped back, "I know where they're headed!"  
  
…  
  
 **Marshfield, Wisconsin, Friendly Valley Chicken Farm, 2019**  
  
The poultry farm was owned by Mario Alfredo Calabria, distant uncle to none other than Damian Grimaldi.  
  
Officially, there existed no link between the poultry farm and Grimaldi Shipping Lines.  
  
But unofficially, the FBI gained enough evidence from flight records to know it was frequented by numerous GSL board members, including Damian himself.  
  
After interviewing a few office workers, Adrian was able to ascertain that this certainly was the place the fugitives had visited before their run-in with the police blockade a few miles south. The farm manager informed them that the boardroom _had_ been booked for a meeting that day. But he was not given the names of any of the attendees. Evidentially, this was the norm.  
  
All the manager could tell them was that the two men and the young boy met with a brown-haired man he described as handsome and well built, possibly in his late 30s.  
  
When Marsh called and ordered them to hightail it to the army base outside Branson, Missouri, Adrian was curious as to how Marsh had come by this information. But he wasn't willing to push his luck by asking.  
  
"Why would they go there?" Blithe mused.  
  
"Good question," Adrian agreed. "But we won't find any answers hanging around in chicken shit! Let's get going!"  
  
"What about the kid?"  
  
"He's 12. Some cop will pick him up soon or later."  
  
…  
  
 **Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin, Greyhound Bus Depot, 2019**  
  
Leo shivered all over even though the depot's neon temperature gauge read 110. He was pretty sure this couldn't be a good thing.  
  
He was in pain, too - a lot of pain! More than that time when he was seven and he cracked a bone sliding into home plate.  
  
He knew whatever pain medication Dr. Bush gave him was quickly wearing off. The wound in his side throbbed and burned like it was on fire. Maybe leaving the hospital was a mistake.  
  
But when he told his dads he was okay with being taken into care, he'd been a lot braver than he was when two women from Child Protection Services actually arrived to interview him.  
  
That made the situation all so _real_.  
  
His dads were gone. He was alone. These were strangers to him. And according to them, he'd be placed in temporary foster care. It all seemed so organized and clean-cut. But most of all, cold and unloving.  
  
The only good thing they did was bring him a fresh change of clothes.  
  
He refused to talk to them. They left without Leo having uttered a single word and promised to be back in the morning. They told him that everything would be okay; that he would be well taken care of. But it was like they were terrible actors, reading out loud from a prepared script.  
  
Leo didn't believe them. He fled the moment he got the chance.  
  
Now he sat at the bus depot, holding his raw side with one hand and his bus ticket with the other; trying not to appear as suspicious as he knew he must look. He'd already hidden from two uniformed cops patrolling the station.  
  
He prayed this meant his fathers had managed to escape the hospital. He knew they'd had to run. But they'd eluded the law for years. They were good at it. He felt sure they would get to Branson as planned.  
  
While hungrily chewing on an energy bar, he kept eyeing the ticket office as well as the streets. The clerk had studied him suspiciously when he purchased his ticket.  
  
"No luggage, Son?" he'd asked.  
  
Leo shrugged. "I have clothes where I'm going."  
  
The clerk narrowed his eyes but produced the ticket as requested.  
  
Whatever happened now, Leo had to be brave. He had to stand on his own two feet. Grow up. He had to do that for the only two people he loved in his life.


	29. Chapter 29

**Washington DC, Washington, Russell Senate Office, 2019**  
  
The rooms and halls that made up the offices of Sen. Charles Marsden were a mass with people. Chaos reigned. Twenty staff members were struggling to answer all the incoming calls, while another ten staffers confronted the multitude of reporters hanging around outside. A dozen others shuffled paperwork and undertook damage control.  
  
Charles shut the large mahogany doors of his office on them all. He needed a break from the noise and general business of it all.  
  
This story was only a day old and already his perfectly engineered and manufactured ship was sinking.  
  
 _And we've yet to hit the approaching iceberg! This ship may just be brought down by two fucking faggots… especially if the FBI don't catch them soon! Oh the irony!_  
  
His peace was short lived when Chief of Staff, Oswald Page, knocked once and entered without waiting for the okay. Approaching his 15th year as Charles' right hand man, Oswald was one of the few staff able to forgo such pleasantries.  
  
"Which one of us is going to gun down the press, Os?" Charles joked. "You or me?"  
  
Oswald laughed. "Better hope they haven't found a way to bug your office, Charles. I shiver to think of the fodder they'd write with _that_ statement as ammunition."  
  
Oswald was his usual calm and collected self; faultlessly dressed; tan shoes shined so bright you could see yourself in them; and strawberry-blonde hair neatly close cropped.  
  
Ex-military, this was the perfect man for Charles to have by his side in a political crisis. Over the years in office, the senator had come to heavily relay on his closest aide.  
  
"Just how bad is it?" Charles asked, sitting with arms crossed on the edge of his desk.  
  
Oswald took a seat in the visitor chair and zipped open his leather binder; close to bursting with reams of paperwork.  
  
"Bad," he replied. "And getting worse, I'm afraid. They're already asking for your resignation on the Hill."  
  
"Shocking!" Charles scoffed, not at all surprised by this development.  
  
Oswald pulled out a fax and read a quotation, "So unthinkable are these allegations that even if proved unfounded, to even be associated with an act so sub-human affects the way we perceive a person's characters and makes that person unfit to govern."  
  
Charles grimaced. "Who said that?"  
  
"Jason Cross. Who else?"  
  
"He must be rubbing his hands in glee!" Charles spat in disgust.  
  
"Yip. He's going to use this to his advantage all he can, of course. Doing the same thing you would, if the tables were turned."  
  
"Always playing fair, right Os?"  
  
Oswald smiled brightly. "One of us has to keep this office on the straight and narrow!"  
  
"Ha… ha…" Charles wondered over to his drinks cabinet and spent a moment deciding between scotch and brandy, finally settling on the latter. "Drink?"  
  
Oswald waved his hand. "No thank you."  
  
As Charles popped the lid of his crystal decanter, his chief of staff buried his nose in all the information he'd spread out over Charles' desk; using that strategic brain of his to search for a solution to their current predicament.  
  
Charles just hoped the man could plug the leak. And fast!  
  
Oswald pulled another sheet of paper from his pile and once more began to read aloud, "I do hope the senator saves himself and his office any further embarrassment and takes the decision to step down voluntarily."  
  
Charles shook his head. "Let me guess… That was Dempsey!"  
  
"That's the right answer! Spin the wheel!" Oswald sang, in perfect imitation of a gameshow host.  
  
A silence fell between them except for the sound of ice clinking in his glass, as Charles swirled the honey liquid within. Usually during their briefings, Oswald would lead the way with various issues of office. But considering the gravity of the situation, he seemed content to allow Charles to control things this time.  
  
Finally Charles asked, "I don't suppose anybody's standing by me?"  
  
Oswald answered with a look that said it all.  
  
 _Fat chance!_  
  
In the game of politics, survival greatly depends on with whom you associated. At the moment, Charles's golden hue was tarnished meaning colleagues would soon start leaping off the conservative's campaign band wagon.  
  
And it was just his luck too that there should be nothing else out there to keep the media entertained. The unfortunate truth was that the public believed everything the media told them. And at that moment, the press weren't exactly in any hurry to portray Charles in a good light.  
  
"I want Marsh crushed!" Charles grouchily announced, slamming his glass down on the window sill as he stared at his hard-earned view of the Capital Dome.  
  
"You want him to lose the appointment to become FBI director?"  
  
"No!" Charles scowled, blowing an exasperated puff of air. "I don't give a shit about the directorship! I want Marsh's fucking head on a plate!"  
  
Oswald narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Just what are you implying?"  
  
"Don't use that tone with me, Os!" Charles demanded, spinning round. "What else do you expect me to do? Sit around and wait for that man to destroy me?"  
  
"It's a mistake," Oswald told him, slowly growing irritated. "Marsh has the full support of the public and is a great favorite of the president. If anything happens to him, the press will clamor for answers! How many times do I have to ask you to stick on the right side of the law, Charles? Every time you stray to the other side of the fence, I'm the one left picking up the pieces!"  
  
Charles slumped in his chair. "So what? I just sit and wait it out?"  
  
"Politically, I think that would be for the best." Oswald shrugged. "With any luck, something big will hit the press and they'll focus their attentions elsewhere. Leave Marsh to win his prize. Once he's director, he'll be happy and all this... will simply run its course and fade into memory."  
  
Charles carefully regarded his chief of staff then stood fast, slamming his palms into the desk. "To hell with what's politically correct! That son of a bitch messed with my presidential campaign, something I've treasured my whole life! It's something I've sacrificed and bled for, Os! There's no way I'm just going to sit here now and allow that excuse for a man to destroy all I've worked for!"  
  
Oswald shook his head as a sign of defeat. He knew when Charles was in this frame of mind, there was next to nothing that could change it.  
  
"I should have found a way to make Marsh disappear when I had the chance!" Charles continued. "I shouldn't have allowed him to gain this much power! It's time I finish him once and for all."  
  
Oswald closed his eyes. He was well aware of just how far the senator was willing to go for a win. Just as the senator was well aware of Oswald's personal policy of "don't ask don't' tell".  
  
"You know my stance, Charles. I cannot be involved in anything..."  
  
"I'm not asking you to be. I have my ways as you well know. Just keep the hounds from my door as long as you can. That's all I need from you."  
  
…  
  
 **St Louis, Missouri, Mokabe's Coffeehouse, 2019**  
  
The coffee shop was perfect. It was tight and cozy; just a few small tables meant there weren't too many people to witness anything they shouldn't.  
  
Chris sat right in the back, away from the windows; laptop open and fingers tapping as he searched through endless FBI files he was surprised he still had access too.  
  
Frequently, he would anxiously look up toward the door, sighing and tapping his foot.  
  
"Waiting for somebody special?" The overly friendly waitress topping up his coffee wore a name badge across one ample breast.  
  
'Brenda' it read.  
  
Chris couldn't help wondering with a slight smile, whether that was on purpose. Brenda's low cut blue top certainly was; along with the way she stooped lower than needed to execute his refill.  
  
"Just some friends running late," he told her, trying to appear more relaxed than he felt. She had no idea how much he hoped that statement was true.  
  
When Luke called Chris' cell from a payphone somewhere near Madison; and told him they'd decided to keep fighting, he'd almost cried.  
  
After going into this thing so reluctantly because of the relentless fear he'd felt then and now, Chris now found himself with this overwhelming urge to see it through. He wanted justice, not just for Luke and Noah and their son, but for all his colleagues murdered that day. And then too for himself.  
  
"Table for two?" He heard the waitress ask.  
  
He looked up and felt the grin spread wide across his face and a lump form in his throat.  
  
Luke and Noah looked like they hadn't seen sleep or a shower in days; two grisly vagabonds walking in off the streets. The blue scrub shirt Noah wore, not to mention the almost manic look in his eyes, meant Noah could easily be mistaken for an escaped mental patient.  
  
But the two men mirrored Chris' grin and shared a stubborn and determined set to their jaw that told Chris the three of them were in this for the long haul; come what may.  
  
Anything had to be better than the 'sort of' life they'd all been forced to live.  
  
They shared manly hugs with solid pats on the back.  
  
"It's so good to see you guys! Seriously!" Chris stressed. "I thought for sure you'd be done for!"  
  
"We almost were," Luke replied. "I'm sorry it took so long to get here but we had to hitch rides. All our cash… everything… it was in the car…"  
  
"I understand." Chris smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about that now. I'm just… I'm so sorry about Leo…"  
  
"Thanks for doing this, Chris." Noah sheepishly said; nodding his acknowledgement. It was obvious the subject of their son was just too painful for them to face that moment. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you back there but…"  
  
Chris shook his head, trying to toughen up and hide the extent of his emotion. "You were right. I really wish I'd done something sooner… but… I guess I just needed somebody to give me that push…"  
  
"Can I get you gentleman anything." The waitress smiled; unable to hide her surprise at the condition of the two men who'd joined Chris.  
  
"Oh…" Luke licked his lips and looked longingly toward the kitchen.  
  
It suddenly dawned on Chris that the two men were starving.   
  
"Have whatever you want," he said. "It's on me."  
  
Noah looked like he wanted to decline. But he had only to see the pleading look in Luke's eyes to relent. "Thanks."  
  
They ordered two large breakfasts and grabbed an apple each to munch on while they waited.  
  
Chris noted how close they stood together. Even when they eventually sat at the table, Noah shifted his chair so his thigh was in contact with Luke's. Often, they would look over at each other. They always seemed by some sort of silent and exclusive communion to be reaffirming and strengthening their bond.  
  
Finally, they got down to business.  
  
"I have some good news," Chris told them.  
  
They both leaned expectantly forward at that; obviously desperate for anything good at all.  
  
His heart bled for them; two men who'd been thrust into hiding as boys and forced to leave their son behind to chase what was effectively just the slim chance of hope. It must have taken a whole lot of guts to make the decision, Chris realized.  
  
"Turns out we don't need to go all the way to Branson after all," Chris told them.  
  
Both men sighed and Luke squeezed Noah's thigh.  
  
"We don't?" Noah hopefully asked; looking too exhausted to make it to the door let alone miles across state.  
  
Chris turned his computer screen so they could see the FBI strip logo showing across the top of the screen; and watched one set of blue and one set of brown eyes widen in surprise.  
  
"Turns out my access codes still work on some of the files I shared with your father," Chris explained.  
  
"What did you find?" Luke gasped, before taking two large bites out of his apple.  
  
"I found plenty on the types of biological studies we were doing at the time; testing the affects of certain agents on the human body. Nasty stuff! Our job was to develop antibodies…"  
  
"Antibodies?" Luke asked, eyes greedily following the plate of eggs and bacon Brenda placed before him.  
  
"Yes. In case such weaponry was ever used on our soldiers or as part of a terrorist attack on US soil," Chris replied once they were alone again. "The government wants to be prepared to administer quick medical attention and know what they're up against. It's advance preparation."  
  
Luke dug into his food like he'd never seen such a wonderful thing. But Chris still had his full attention. He drank in the information while he chewed.  
  
"I see," Noah mused. "But why would Charles Marsden be so heavily involved? He was retired from the Army then."  
  
"He was defense secretary at the time," Chris explained. "The FBI, the Army, DEA… Marsden knew how to work the halls of Congress to ensure guaranteed funding for certain projects."  
  
He watched Luke and Noah with sympathy. They wanted information, but the strong impulse to eat seemed to be warring with their desire to listen to Chris.  
  
"Eat, you guys," Chris told them. "Then we'll check into a hotel with good WiFi and you can both get some sleep."  
  
Noah opened his mouth to speak, but Chris cut him off. "Not up for discussion! You guys are useless in your current state. Plus you stink… if you don't mind me saying so."  
  
They both grinned and shrugged.  
  
"It will do you both a world of good. And I'm going to need more time to go through everything, anyway."


	30. Chapter 30

**Oakdale, Illinois, Old Towne, 2019**  
  
The brakes on the bus squealed loudly as it came to a stop, waking Leo up. The area of window where his head had rested was fogged from the heat and sweat pouring off him. His brain was fuzzy, too.  
  
 _Where am I?_  
  
"Oakdale?" the driver called over the intercom. "Anybody for Oakdale? This is your stop."  
  
"Yeah…" Leo croaked with a throat sleep-tightened and groggy.  
  
"One over here driver," the kindly lady seated next to him shouted down the central aisle; standing to enable Leo to scoot out from the two seats.  
  
"Thank you," he said.  
  
"You okay, Darlin'?" she asked in concern, actually reaching up to hold her palm over his forehead and clucking in a motherly fashion. "You look like you're burnin' up somethin' rotten!"  
  
Leo blinked at her; his responses slowed by the fever. He looked out the window at the small town, slowly darkening but somewhat hallowed in the late afternoon sun. In the far distance, he could see endless green and yellow fields interspersed with clumps of forest that seemed to stretch on forever.  
  
"I'll be fine," he assured her. "I'm home now."  
  
He turned and somehow made it off the bus without stumbling.  
  
Once the large vehicle pulled out of the depot, he collapsed on a bench in the bus shelter. He let out a groan of pain he'd been holding back the entire journey and leaned forward over his knees; gritting his teeth.  
  
 _Boy… this is the shittiest week ever!_  
  
Luckily there weren't very many people around and he was blessedly bestowed the few minutes he needed to wake himself up.  
  
Taking a chance he wouldn't pass out, he stood on tentative legs and started walking with a small feeling of certainty, like a tiny sun rising warm beneath his ribs. He still felt wet and cold and battered; a rock flung this way and that in a raging torrent. But he'd made it here. To the place his fathers called home. That _had_ to mean something.  
  
He didn't know where he was going, but following the general interest signs for Historical Old Towne Center seemed as good a direction as any.  
  
He reached a huge and highly decorative wrought iron arch with 1839 proudly displayed on its crown. This arch marked the entrance to a pedestrian-only shopping area. Tiny independent shops populated the space, making modern use of the quaint historical timber-framed buildings.  
  
Leo followed the tight alley ways that criss-crossed the space; all lined with the same red brickwork.  
  
Locals hurried through on their way home from work to start dinner, shopping bags gripped in hands or under arms. A few of them eyed Leo curiously, but most seemed too busy to worry over the young stranger.  
  
With a population of less than 500 (if you excluded the university students), strangers were easily picked out in a town like Oakdale. That's what Leo's pop always used to say anyway.  
  
He saw his reflection clearly in the window of a coffee shop and almost didn't recognize himself. His face was flushed and wide-eyed.  
  
 _I can't meet them like this!_  
  
He spat on the bottom corner of his shirt and lifted it up to clean the dirt smears from his face. As he did so, he noticed for the first time that the stitches on his wound must have bust open. The gauze across one side of his waist was stained in blood.  
  
 _Nothing much I can do about that now._  
  
He pulled his T-shirt down over the stain and ran his fingers through his hair; trying to achieve the messy look his pop carried so well. Unfortunately, he had his dad's thick straight hair and the action simply succeeded in looking like his head hadn't been combed in weeks. He gave up on that and instead tried to flatten the frizzy mess back off his forehead as much as he could.  
  
 _Oh fuck it!_  
  
The whole business of lifting his arms to try and look presentable had done nothing for his looks but totally stolen the last dregs of energy he had left. He turned around looking for something to stabilize himself on; and mercifully spotted a bench, situated only a few feet away in the center of the square.  
  
 _Perfect!_  
  
He collapsed breathless onto it; swallowing the wave of nausea that once again threatened to knock him out. He was close now. He only had a short way to go. He just needed to rest for a moment.  
  
Truthfully, he had no idea what to expect once he found Snyder Farm. For all he knew, they'd tell him to shove it and call him on bringing danger to their door. It wasn't like he was a blood relative after all.  
  
But as the evening lamps in the square came on, he pushed those doubts away, closed his eyes and breathed deeply; in and out, in and out.  
  
 _Think positive!_  
  
When he opened them again, he spotted a man standing near the entrance to a hardware store. He was of medium build; muscular like he did a lot of hard labor rather than from working out in a gym. He had dark chestnut hair, long and wavy over his ears, making him appear young. Although on closer inspection, Leo could tell this man was older than either of his fathers.  
  
The man appeared to have stopped in his tracks on the way out the store. His grey-blue eyes were regarding Leo with a faraway kind of longing.  
  
Leo's breath caught in his throat as their eyes met.  
  
The man blinked; face coming over all embarrassed.  
  
"I'm sorry," the man said across the space between them. "I didn't mean to stare at you. It's just… you remind me of somebody I once knew…"  
  
The man cocked his head at Leo, staring again with a deep sadness Leo had seen in his pop's eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry…" the man said again, obviously annoyed with himself for continuing to stare. He turned to make his way out of the square.  
  
A shocked Leo sat for a moment watching the man leave. It was quickly sinking in who this man might be. Only he never imaged running into him like this.  
  
Finding his voice from somewhere and taking a chance, Leo sprang to his feet and called loudly, "Noah Mayer?"  
  
Leo knew he was right when just those two words brought the older man to an instant stop.  
  
The man turned slowly; his hands starting to shake so badly the paper bag he held dropped forgotten to the ground. But his blue eyes trained on Leo; burning so steadily Leo thought he felt a physical heat from it.  
  
Holden Snyder moved forward until all that remained between them was a foot of air; his disbelieving gaze flittering over Leo's face. A tremor ran down a blue vein in the man's muscular throat.  
  
He had a broad, good-humored kind of face with soft blue eyes and a wide mouth that curled at the ends; like he was on the verge of smiling. It made you want to both like and be liked by him straight away.  
  
Leo stood stock still, trying to swallow the cotton-wool-like clumps clogging his throat. This was the man his pop called Dad; the man largely responsible for the kind of person Luke was.  
  
Most of all, Leo stood hoping that all the feelings bubbling up inside of him were right. Tears slipped down his cheeks, only to soak the man's shirt as Leo found himself pulled roughly into an unexpected hug. He gasped in surprise but pretty soon was returning the embrace.  
  
Holden smelled like hay and wind and oak; with an understated dab of aftershave. Being in these arms felt like safety and relief, like Leo could let go and be a kid again.  
  
"How is this possible?" the man gasped.  
  
Leo's fingers dug into the linen of Holden's shirt, as though he were afraid Holden would disappear, unless physically held in place by a boy's desperate fear.  
  
"Are they alive?" Holden tearfully whispered. He sounded afraid to even ask.  
  
Still unable to find voice, Leo nodded against Holden's chest and he felt the man's entire body loosen; as though dropping a 100-pound weight he'd been carrying for far too long.  
  
Holden suddenly grasped Leo by the shoulders, pushing him back; and holding him away so that he could stare earnestly into Leo's face.  
  
"At least… they were yesterday," Leo nervously babbled. "We… um… we got separated… and… and… I didn't know where else to go... and... and..."  
  
"It's okay," Holden assured him; watery eyes open and honest. "You came to the right place, Kid."  
  
Leo loudly sniffed and Holden smiled at him, knuckling the tears away from the boy's eyes, seemingly unable to stop staring at him. "You look so much like-"  
  
"Yeah… yeah… I know… I look just like my dad," Leo shyly sang, like he was bored with people saying it when really it was something he held dear.  
  
"That may be so," Holden agreed. "But you've definitely picked up on Luke's attitude!"  
  
"Sorry," Leo blushed, ashamed of himself.  
  
"No!" Holden burst out quickly in a grin. "No! It's… It's wonderful!"  
  
Leo felt a sense of mingled shyness and intimacy. It felt comfortable being with this man, like he'd known Holden his whole life. In a way, he supposed he had, what with all the stories Luke told him.  
  
"What's your name?" Holden asked.  
  
It seemed so strange to Leo that this man, who was already looking at him with love, should even need to ask such a simple question about him. "It's Leo."  
  
"Leo, ha?" Holden smiled, eyes filled with a million questions. "Well... what do you say we go home, Leo?"  
  
"Okay…" Leo uncertainly replied. The shot of adrenaline he'd had on meeting his grandfather was fading and his legs felt wobbly. "But…"  
  
"What is it? Why are you so…?"  
  
Leo lifted his shirt so Holden could see the dressing.  
  
"Oh my, God! Is that a-"  
  
"Yeah," Leo confirmed. "I was in the hospital. But they wanted to put me in a foster home and… I… I wanted to be here…"  
  
"You left the hospital…?" a concerned Holden asked, "...without being discharged?"  
  
Leo nodded.  
  
"Well we have to take you to Memorial Hospital right away then-"  
  
"No!" Leo almost screamed. "I can't go there! They'll ask questions and then… then _they'll_ find me… They'll take me away! Please… please…"  
  
Holden's arm came protectively around Leo's shoulders and he urged the boy to lean on him, "Okay. Don't you worry, we'll head to the farm for now… Till we've had time to talk. Okay?"  
  
"Okay," Leo weakly replied; and they started to move together toward the parking lot.  
  
As they walked, Holden pulled his cell from the back pocket of his jeans. He flipped the screen one-handed and punched a number with his thumb. "Meg? Can you meet me at the farm right away? I need your help with something. It's pretty important."


	31. Chapter 31

**Outskirts of St Louis, Missouri, K-River Inn and Campgrounds, 2019**  
  
The motel they found was built all on one level. The room Chris checked them into had the standard double bed, sofa, two nightstands complete with a worn copy of the Bible; and a small television that didn't work. A door on the right led to a bathroom, small but surprisingly clean. But unlike most standard motel rooms, this one also had a rounded archway concealing a small kitchenette. A back door led outside onto a private decking area with a view of the countryside.  
  
The moment they arrived, Chris settled down at the small kitchen table, plugging in his laptop to continue his download of information from the FBI internal website.  
  
It gave Luke and Noah some privacy, while they tried to catch up on their sleep.  
  
They stripped off their jeans and fell into bed, neither having the energy to shower first. They lay facing one another, blinking softly, waiting for sleep that was slow to come despite their desperate need for it.  
  
Noah put his hand to Luke's cheek and traced the bones and dark circles over and over again; ignoring the hot wetness there. He sniffed and snuggled closer, feeling Luke's hands caressing his waist.  
  
"I miss him," Luke mouthed.  
  
"He'll be alright," Noah assured Luke, keeping his voice low.  
  
Unable to speak, Luke's breath studdered; his brow creased. But he nodded.  
  
"He's strong," Noah continued, not sure if he was trying to convince Luke or himself.  
  
"He has… He has your brains…" Luke finished.  
  
"Yeah…" Noah smiled, "...and your mouth!"  
  
Luke playfully punched Noah's shoulder and giggled through his tears. "Only he knows the right time to use it! He at least thinks before he speaks!"  
  
Noah stared at Luke for a long moment then smiled wide and fondly. "Yeah... he does."  
  
Noah was beginning to realize how hard it was going to be to fall asleep. They were both gripped by terror, bone-tense with it.  
  
Luke sighed. "It's gonna be hard going home and…"  
  
Noah knew what Luke meant. "Being so close and not being able to see them?"  
  
Luke quickly nodded.  
  
Noah stretched his arm over him as much to stop his own trembling as Luke's.  
  
Luke found Noah's other hand and bent his lips to it. It was feather-light and tickled slightly. Luke's fingers touched the ring and stopped there, rubbing the metal lightly between thumb and forefinger.  
  
"I hope…" he softly said, "...that one day we can do this for real."  
  
"This is real," Noah replied. "I don't need some legal document to tell me you're my husband, Luke. You have been for so long now."  
  
"Yeah," Luke agreed. "But it would be nice if we could stand up as ourselves and tell the world that." Everything Luke felt was evident on his face as always; urgent hope, desperate fear, and the struggle to contain both.  
  
Noah's tears were already starting out as dammed saucers. But Luke's sentiment sent them overflowing. They fell, full and round down Noah's face.  
  
Luke's hands cupped Noah's chin with gentleness. He placed his mouth on Noah's; and Noah's eyes closed for the first time since they'd lain there.  
  
…  
  
A nightmare woke him. But he must not have cried out because Luke still slept soundly beside him; and he could hear the uninterrupted tapping of Chris's keyboard coming from the kitchenette.  
  
It was dark outside; the only light that which spilled from the kitchen in an eerie arch. It reached out into the bedroom, creating shadows. Noah felt an ominous ache deep inside that caused him to shiver. He breathed through the shock waves and turned his head to Luke, lifting his hand to lay it over the spot where Luke's pulse beat slowly and strong, just at the base of his breastbone.  
  
Noah rested his head in the curve of Luke's shoulder to listen to its steady rhythm. He slipped a few fingers under the neck of Luke's shirt and played with the soft blonde hairs on Luke's chest. The territory of Luke's body was warm under Noah, solid and comforting.  
  
An electronic rendition of Saturday Night Fever broke through the silence. Luke shifted position; groaning in his sleep.  
  
The sound cut off quickly and Noah heard Chris softly answer, "Hello?"  
  
"Shh…" Noah soothed Luke, until he was sure the man was still asleep.  
  
He kissed Luke's temple and stood clumsily on his feet. Stretching and yawning, he waited for the dizzy feeling from getting up too quickly to leave him, before slipping back into his jeans.  
  
As he slipped the hospital shirt back on, he grimaced when his nose came too close to his armpit. He was beginning to wish he's taken that shower now. He decided he'd do just that after a quick catch up with Chris. He wasn't likely to sleep again now.  
  
He padded barefoot into the kitchenette. Chris was still on the phone and seemed concerned by something. But he acknowledged Noah with a short smile and indicated the other chair.  
  
"When was this, Sweetheart?" Noah sat while Chris continued his phonecall. "Aha? And… did Jacob say who it was?"  
  
Noah spotted a bag of cheese curls on the table and popped a few in his mouth.  
  
"Okay…" Chris said into the phone. "Don't worry. I'm sure it was nothing. I'll see you soon, I promise." Chris waited for the other person to finish talking. "I love you too. Bye."  
  
The doctor hung up and stared out the opened back door; deep in thought. For a moment all they could hear was the persistent chirp of crickets.  
  
"You're married?" Noah asked, noticing Chris' wedding ring.  
  
Chris blinked at him and then glanced down at the ring on his hand. "Um… yes. Yes, I am. A few years now."  
  
"That's great." Noah nodded. "Do I know her?"  
  
"Yeah!" Chris said with a smile that dropped just as quickly. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again.  
  
Noah's sensed he was holding something back.  
  
"Well?" Noah asked. "Who is it?"  
  
"Um… Noah… With the way things are right now… I mean… Now isn't the time to start talking about home. There are some things you two are better off not knowing for now."  
  
Noah frowned, "Wait… When you say I know her… do you mean…"  
  
Chris held up his hand, "Noah, like I said… when we've cleared all this stuff up… then you guys have all the time in the world to get caught up on home. Right now, I just don't think it will help you."  
  
"Please Chris. You can't just say something like that and not tell me."  
  
Chris sighed. "But keep it to yourself for now, okay?"  
  
Noah didn't reply. He didn't want to make a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.  
  
"I'm married to Katie."  
  
Noah blinked. "Katie?" He frowned in confusion as he realized who that was. "Katie Snyder?"  
  
"Katie Hughes now."  
  
"But… but…"  
  
"Brad?"  
  
Noah nodded, suddenly regretting he'd asked.  
  
"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Noah. Luke's cousin was killed in 2010."  
  
Noah's hands came to his face. He didn't get to know Brad Snyder all that well, but he knew this news would be devastating for Luke.  
  
"Katie was pregnant at the time. Their son, Jacob, is now my step-son."  
  
Noah shook his head, unable to speak past the burn in his throat.  
  
"Again… God, Noah… I'm so sorry!"  
  
"It's okay," Noah replied, holding up a hand to gather himself. "It's just… I guess we're stupid if we think things won't be different if…" He breathed deeply and steeled himself, "... _when_ we get home."  
  
"A lot will have changed. You're right."  
  
"We've missed out on so much, Chris! But do you want to hear the funny part?"  
  
"There's actually a funny part in all of this?"  
  
Noah sadly smiled. "If we'd never gone on the run… If none of this ever happened… then… then we'd never have known about Leo. I have a son and I'd never have known!"  
  
"Wow." Chris was breathless for a moment. "That's a tough one to get your head around."  
  
Noah nodded. "Tell me about it! You know, for all the pain we've had… there's also been so much happiness. I mean… I never really had a proper family before I met Luke… not with my dad."  
  
Chris smiled. "I'm glad things weren't always bad for you guys."  
  
Noah puffed a laugh and then spotted a supply of instant coffee Chris must have gone out to get while they slept. He stood and turned on the kettle.  
  
"Shit!" Chris suddenly gasped.  
  
Noah spun around. "What is it?"  
  
Chris began fervently tapping at his computer. "Fuck!"  
  
"Chris?" Noah's heart began that menacing thumping he always got when things turned sour.  
  
When Chris looked up, his eyes were wide. "I think they found us!"  
  
He'd barely gotten the words out when somebody banged loudly on the door. "FBI! Open up!"  
  
Noah's first instinct was to run to Luke. He charged forward, but Chris quickly pulled him back; snatching his laptop and hauling the two of them outside.  
  
Noah pulled against the surprisingly strong doctor, desperate to get back inside; especially as he heard the motel door bust open and somebody yell, "Freeze! Hands where I can see them!"  
  
"No!" Chris' muscular arms wrapped around Noah as he struggled to save Luke. With iron determination, the doctor pulled Noah into the dark shadows cast by the building's walls.  
  
"Let me go!" Noah gasped.  
  
"If you go in there, it's over!" Chris urgently whispered in Noah's ear, his breath hot on Noah's cheek. "But if you come with me there's still a chance!"  
  
Noah paused on those words. Every bone urged him to help Luke, while his rational side knew Chris was right.  
  
"They'll kill him," he sobbed.  
  
"If you go back, for sure!" Chris stated. "But while _you're_ still on the run, they'll keep him alive to find you! You hear what I'm saying?"  
  
Noah took one look at Chris, bit down on his lip until it bled, but finally nodded. Going against every one of Noah's instincts, they scurried along the shadows; disappearing into the dark just in time.   
  
"There's a fucking back door!" they heard an agitated voice yell.  
  
They located the car given to Chris by Damian's men, grateful they'd thought to park it away from the motel. Having lost the Ford at the hospital, Noah wasn't taking any further chances as far as transport was concerned.  
  
They traveled away in silence. Chris obviously didn't know what to say and Noah, simply to maintain some semblance of control on the situation, forced his mind to concentrate on nothing but counting the spots of street lights as they shot past; becoming slowly mesmerized.  
  
Leo was on his way to God only knew where; Luke was captured; and suddenly flight was no longer his goal. Revenge was!  
  
The only chance at a life together now rested totally on him, when he didn't even know whether his actions would make any difference.  
  
Without Luke by his side, it was so unbelievably tempting to just give up. But he couldn't. He promised.  
  
So, he would carry the burden of this pain that grew as tremors through his heart, for as long as he possibly could; even if it was like keeping a candle burning in the rain.


	32. Chapter 32

St Louis, Missouri, Olive Street Adult Detention Center, 2019

Adrian Williams flashed his federal badge at the line of cops holding off the group of reporters already gathered outside the detention center. Somehow word had leaked out about the capture of one of the FBI's 10 Most Wanted fugitives.

Adrian was relieved to say the least, but more than a little bothered he'd not been the one to find Snyder. That had been Marsh's doing; and the deputy director was back in Washington already soaking up the glory. Adrian still had no clue as to how Marsh knew where Snyder could be found.

And Mayer was still on the loose.

How did that happen?

The one thing Adrian had learned over the past few days was that Snyder and Mayer stuck together like glue.

Adrian was greeted at the door by the center's superintendent, David Truman. The two men quickly paced down a vast hallway.

"He's been processed," Truman said. "Any news on the other guy? Mayer, was it?"

Adrian shook his head. "Nothing. But I wager he'll turn up soon. He's alone now. Nothing left to run for."

Adrian hoped he was right about that. Marsh might be happy to have apprehended one half of the duo. But the pressure was still on to locate the other 50 percent.

"Nobody's questioned him yet, right?"

"Nope," the super assured him. "Not beyond the standard crap usually asked during possessing. Funny… kid doesn't seem like some tough criminal or nothin'! Been crying like a baby most of the time. He's pretty messed up, if you were to ask my opinion."

"Yeah, well," Adrian chuckled. "...his day is about to get worse!"

They reached a security gate where Adrian was made to confirm his credentials and leave his weapon, before being shown to an interrogation room.

"I'd like to talk to him alone, please," the federal agent requested.

Truman nodded, slipping a key in the lock and letting Adrian into the room.

He stopped and waited for the door to shut behind him before moving forward and taking a seat at the small metal table, directly opposite one of the men who'd taken him on a cross-country jaunt.

Luke Snyder looked finished; beaten down. With one wrist cuffed to a metal ring atop the table, he rested both arms on the surface. His head lolled forward; hair partly hiding a face, pale and drawn.

But when he looked up, his sad and swollen eyes still held that light of defiance Adrian recognized from Wisconsin Rapids.

Yeah. You're not quite done yet. Are you?

"Morning, Luke," Adrian said with a satisfied smile.

Luke simply glared at him without answer.

Adrian shifted, getting comfortable in the chair; trying to give the impression he had all the time in the world to wait for Luke to open up. "You got me into a lot of shit, Luke."

"I'm sorry about that."

Adrian paused for a moment. Snyder's apology actually seemed genuine. Adrian cleared his throat. "As I'm sure you must know, Luke, we have a few questions for you. Now, I know from experience how slippery you can be. So I'll say this…" Adrian leaned forward on his elbows. "...we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. But you will tell me where Noah's headed and-"

"How's my son?"

The question stilled Adrian. He should have expected it, but his focus was on finding Mayer. He wasn't sure what to tell Snyder, and he was hesitant to lie. He had the distinct impression this guy would know if he did.

Luke seemed to have the ability to look right into Adrian's soul. It was actually a little unnerving.

"I don't know." Adrian settled on that. It wasn't a lie because really, he didn't know. He didn't know where the boy was at all, even though every police force in the area was on the lookout for 12-year-old Leo.

Luke laughed. It was a painful laugh. So much so that Adrian thought he felt the burn transfer to his own gut. Two fat tears escaped the blonde's lower lids.

"You know," Luke said. He took a breath as though the words he needed to say tasted bad in his mouth. "I knew you were a heartless bunch of assholes but… this…"

"This?"

"Keeping information from me about my son!" the man angrily growled, scratching at the orange jumpsuit he'd been made to wear. "…when he's only 12 and in the hospital! And you know what that must be doing to me! I've asked and asked and nobody will say anything!" Snyder's gaze dropped to a spot on the wall and he swayed as though dizzy.

"Maybe you should have thought about all that before you stole him."

Snyder's head whipped back up to glower fire at Adrian. It was obvious he was unsettled to discover the FBIi knew the truth about Leo. "We rescued him! He would have died with her!"

"That's not how the law sees it."

"Yeah? Well… from experience? The law sees what it wants to see and fuck anything or anyone else! We didn't do anything wrong! We never did! The law destroyed our lives!"

Something about Snyder pushed a nerve with Adrian. He wasn't sure why, but he felt this urge to defend himself and to distance himself from the FBI; an organization which Luke obviously despised with a passion.

Am I feeling sorry for him?

This was a new sensation for Adrian. He'd interviewed many criminals over his career; and all of them had some sob story as to why they were right and the law was wrong. It was Adrian's job to hunt down criminals and the court's job to decide on the merits of guilt.

Adrian shook the feeling from his shoulders and broke the short silence between them. "Are you ready to talk?"

Luke smirked and leaned forward. "Okay, Agent Williams. You want to talk? Fine! Let's talk! Let's start with what really happened in Oakdale back in 2008! That would be an excellent place to start!"

"I'm only interested in the now, Luke."

"Yes, of course! Because you're not interest in the truth at all! You call yourself a lawman, Agent Williams? But you sit there choosing to ignore what's right in front of you!"

That was like a slap across the face. Adrian didn't like his work ethic questioned. He frowned and narrowed his eyes at Luke, waiting a breath.

"Okay." He eventually decided to play along. Maybe he could earn enough brownie points to get Snyder to open up. "I'll bite." He sat back and folded his arms. "I'm listening. You tell me the story."

So Luke did. He told Adrian of that day in 2008, amid the smoke and the bodies. He told Adrian of the years since then right up until they were forced to leave their child in a Wisconsin hospital bed. He told his story carefully; without elaborating on any aliases they'd used or including the names of anybody who'd helped them over the years."

When he finished, Adrian laughed at him. "That's your story?" he scoffed. "It's the craziest thing I've ever heard! You want me to believe that Senator Marsden planned all of this? It's absurd!"

"But me and Noah gunning down a room full of people isn't?" Luke countered. "You must have read our histories, Agent Williams! You have to know the kind of people we were before that day! I'm not a murderer! And neither is Noah." He stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling for a second, a strange worried look on his face. "At least not yet… not unless you turn him into one because you leave him with no other choice!"

Adrian regarded Luke for a minute. "I've got no reason to trust anything you say, Luke. You haven't given me one."

"Trust?" Anger so deep flared up in Luke that he stood awkwardly in the chair, bent to one side because of his cuffed wrist. "How dare you talk to me about trust? Our lives have been fucked up for 10 years because of people like you! I haven't seen my family, my parents, my sisters! Hell! My brother was a baby, when we were arrested! He doesn't even know me anymore!" Luke fell back in the chair and it groaned under the force of his frustration. "The FBI set us up from the start… we had no hope from the start… And we have no hope now…" Luke stared right into Adrian's face with an earnestness that was breathtaking, "Do we?"

Keeping his expression neutral as he was trained to do, Adrian replied, "The FBI did their job, Luke. They followed the evidence as it was laid out. And that evidence, all of it, led to the two of you."

Luke nodded, breaking eye contact. "I'm tired now," he flatly said. "I don't feel like answering any more of your stupid questions."

Adrian watched Snyder closely and knew the man was never going to reveal Mayer's location.

"But…" Adrian raised an eyebrow as Luke continued to talk. "…I have a few questions for you."

"Okay," Adrian relented.

"It's obvious where you stand in all of this. We're guilty and you're gonna take us down no matter what I say. But I have to ask this… If Noah and I are so fucking brilliant at disappearing, why the hell did we come back to Illinois of all places? Why did we come out of the shadows and risk capture?"

It was a brilliant question and threw Adrian for a loop. When he left the room, Adrian knew it was a question he'd ponder over with Chief Blithe.

But at this moment, he couldn't allow Snyder the upper hand.

"Your father, Damian, was involved in helping you escape, wasn't he?" Adrian asked.

That got a reaction. Luke flinched only slightly and then got himself back under control.

"Like I said before," the blonde calmly stated, eyelids shadowed and totally closed off. "I'm tired now. I'm not talking anymore."

And it was true. Adrian tried to get Luke to talk for another whole hour. He tried every tactic in the book. But Luke Snyder might as well have been in another room. He was silent as the grave.

One thing was for sure, Luke Snyder was one of the most stubborn men Adrian had ever met.


	33. Chapter 33

**Oakdale, Illinois, Snyder Farm, 2019**  
  
Leo had experienced some pretty strange dreams before, but this one took the cake!  
  
He felt disconnected somehow, as if he was floating above his body; suspended in a thick sticky liquid. He was immobilized, too. The more he tried to move the more his head and side hurt.  
  
It was so much easier to just stay still.  
  
Time seemed endless and deep. He knew he'd been this way for a while. There were always people around him. He sensed their presence; heard their whispers. He supposed he should fear them, but oddly he didn't. He was reassured by them. They smelt like…  
  
"Pop?" he hopefully asked. But he knew that was crazy because... He tried to remember; suffered the burn through the neurons in his brain screaming at him to calm and rest. His eyes flew open and he gasped for breath.  
  
 _I'm alone!_  
  
Completely disoriented, he sat up in a large king-sized bed. It was softer than any bed he'd ever known; with comfortable feather pillows and a brightly-colored quilt. The room was simply furnished with antique wooden cupboards and drawers. A framed cross-stitched sampler on the wall opposite the bed read, 'Home is where the heart is'.  
  
The floral drapes over the windows were drawn with the sun sneaking in a few rays through the gaps. Leo could tell it was morning. He could hear birds singing; chickens clucking; and, occasionally, the excited neighing and puff of a horse.  
  
 _I remember._  
  
He must have passed out on the ride to the farm. The last thing he remembered was watching endless fields of corn pass by, as Holden's truck drove them out of the town. Now he was bathed and dressed in freshly laundered Star Wars pajamas that smelt like jasmine.  
  
He groaned with both embarrassment and irritation.  
  
 _Way to make an ass of yourself!_  
  
A shuffling startled Leo from his thoughts and he glanced to the right. A boy around his age sat frozen in an armchair in the corner. In one hand, he held an opened paperback; his hazel eyes were fixed with interest on Leo.  
  
"Hi," the boy shyly greeted; still without moving.  
  
Leo relaxed. "Hi."  
  
"Sorry," the boy apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you or… I mean… You woke so fast, I didn't know what to say."  
  
A strip of light brown hair fell across one of the boy's eyes and the gap between them furrowed in a way that made Leo's heart sour in its familiarity. "Are you Ethan?"  
  
When the boy smiled, he knew for sure. Ethan had the same dimples as his pop. "Yeah!"  
  
Both boys happily laughed.  
  
"Hi, Ethan," Leo said. "I'm Leo."  
  
"I know. My dad told me. It's nice to meet you."  
  
A nervous Leo nodded, spreading his hands over the quilt's delicate stitches; tracing the patterns with his forefinger. A silence fell between them until Leo declared, "This is pretty weird, ha?"  
  
"Yeah," Ethan quietly agreed. "We thought they were dead, you know?"  
  
Leo lifted his head to peer over at Ethan's hand. He wasn't ready to have that conversation so he changed the subject to fill the awkward silence. "What you reading?"  
  
"Harry Potter."  
  
"Oh I love those books!" he excitedly replied, glad to find something they could talk about. "I've read them all like a gazillion times. Which one you on?"  
  
"Half Blood Prince. I'm pretty bummed about Dumbledore…"  
  
"Yeah, I was too," Leo agreed. "But wait until you get to the last book and you'll be amazed! Seriously!"  
  
Half an hour later, Leo had forgotten about his sore head. He was leaning up against the headboard; Ethan sprawled out comfortably at the bottom of the bed. The two of them talked and joked non-stop about books and baseball and animals.  
  
Leo found he liked Luke's half-brother a lot. Not only was Leo put at ease by how much the other boy reminded him of Luke. But they also genuinely seemed to share a lot of common interests.  
  
They side-stepped the issue of Leo's parents for quite some time until eventually Ethan seemed to drum up the courage he needed to ask, "Does he ever talk about me?"  
  
It took Leo a moment to understand the question, since it come so left field during a discussion about CSI.  
  
"Are you kidding?" Leo smiled. "Like… all the time! He's always told me stories about the farm and your family. That's how I knew who you were so quickly."  
  
That seemed to make Ethan extra happy.  
  
"I was angry with him for a long time," Ethan admitted. "I didn't understand… I still don't understand…"  
  
"They didn't want to hide from you guys," Leo tried to assure Ethan. "They just… I guess they wanted to keep you safe."  
  
Ethan nodded, staring down at his hands.  
  
"Did you really get shot?" Ethan asked wide-eyed.  
  
Leo nodded.  
  
Ethan studied him for a moment and then grinned. "That's so cool, man!"  
  
"I know! Right?" Leo agreed. "Hurts bad though! I don't recommend it!"  
  
As they laughed, the door to the room flung open and a pretty woman stood there with her mouth agape.  
  
"Lily!" Leo heard Holden chastise. He sounded out of breath, like he'd had to run to keep up with her. "Give the boy some time to settle in first, will you?"  
  
But he was too late; for her eyes were already filling with tears. "You look just like him!"  
  
Ethan rolled his eyes at his mother's dramatics and Leo couldn't help it. He grinned.  
  
That was all the invitation she needed. Leo found himself pressed against her in a tight embrace. He could barely get any air.  
  
He heard Holden chuckle. "Lily, let the poor boy breathe!"  
  
She ignored her husband but pulled back to examine Leo closely, the same way his pop had done in the hospital.  
  
 _Now I know where Pop gets it from!_  
  
"How are you feeling?" she asked him, holding the back of her hands to his cheek. "You feel really warm. Are you sick still?" She looked back behind her. "Meg?"  
  
Leo realized that another woman with vibrant eyes and crazy curly dark hair had entered the room. She carried a medical aid kit with her and smiled kindly at Leo.  
  
"Hi, Honey,"she said, sitting on the bed across from Lily; and pulling a thermometer from her bag. "I'm your Aunt Meg. I'm also a registered nurse. You weren't doing too good when you arrived here last night. I had to give you a mild sedative. But you do look like you've got some color back."  
  
"I'm fine." Leo replied, a little shell-shocked by all the attention.  
  
Lily laughed. "Noah always used to say that! And it was never true!"  
  
Leo smiled. "But I am. Honest!"  
  
"That may be the case," Meg stated. "But just to be sure I'm going to stick this under your tongue, so we can check your temperature."  
  
Leo nodded, since he couldn't speak with the cold glass balanced between his lips.  
  
They were all watching him expectantly. He felt a little like he was on show. He blushed and shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Holden noticed. "Hey everyone. What do you say we give Meg and Leo some room?"  
  
"Ah, Dad!" Ethan moaned.  
  
Holden rested his arms on Lily's shoulders; and she reached up to touch him. He looked directly at Leo. "If you feel like you're up to it… Will you join us all downstairs? I think we should talk about what's happening here."  
  
Leo nodded.  
  
But suddenly a young woman burst through the door; eyes like saucers. "Mom! Dad! You gotta come quick!"  
  
She noticed Leo sitting up. Her eyes flashed over him in recognition she dismissed, when her father asked, "What is it Nat?"  
  
She shook her head with distress. "Oh, Daddy! It's Luke!"  
  
Leo's nerve endings tingled. "Pop?"  
  
The thermometer slipped from his lips to the comforter but nobody cared.  
  
"You gotta come…" Nat begged. "Quick!"  
  
All six of them stumbled down a small narrow staircase, through a large kitchen and into a family sitting room.  
  
Seated on the sofa was a rounded old lady with grey tips to the brown curls styled neatly upon her head. She held an embroidered handkerchief to her red nose and sniffed; her breath hitching in tiny squeaks.  
  
Leo knew she must be his Grandma Emma. But he didn't have the time to process that relationship, because a police mug shot of Luke was on the television screen.   
  
His pop looked so tired and alone that a broken sob escaped Leo's lips.  
  
"…apprehended early this morning in a motel room outside St Louis. This is Dalia Smith, reporting for CNN."  
  
 _Oh no!_  
  
Leo wobbled on his legs but felt an arm wrap round his chest from behind and hold him steady. He looked up at Holden Snyder and wept at the pained look he saw there.  
  
"Where's my dad?" he asked nobody in particular.


	34. Chapter 34

**St Louis, Missouri, Best Value Inn, 2019**  
  
They found another motel that made the K-River Inn look like the Sheraton. But then that was deliberate. Knowing the FBI was on Chris' tail, they needed a place so dubious the management would take cash without bothering with IDs.  
  
The corners and ceilings were moldy and the damp smell was intense. Half the mattress springs were flattened making the bed appear to slope to the right. The drapes were merely muslin cloth and hadn't seen a wash in years. They fell across the window in tatters, like a cat clawed holes from top to bottom.  
  
There were used condoms in the bin and a faint dusting of suspicious white powder over most flat surfaces. The toilet overflowed and the bathtub was black with human dirt and hair.  
  
It was a true indication of his frame of mind that Noah, almost obsessive compulsive when it came to cleanliness, should notice none of it.  
  
He sat on the filthy covers of the bed; and tried to remember the last time he was truly happy. But he couldn't. That fear they lived with on a daily basis undercut everything; almost the foundation on which they survived. And it was buzzing at crescendo levels under Noah's skin.  
  
Guilt built up brick by brick inside of him; making him doubt everything he'd done and all the decisions he'd made to get to this point. He'd left them both; first Leo and now Luke.  
  
"I'm sorry, Noah."  
  
Noah was almost surprised by Chris's voice. He'd traveled so deeply inside himself he'd forgotten the doctor was there.  
  
"It's not your fault," he replied flatly.  
  
Chris leaned up against the closed motel door. "They must have put a flag on those files and then traced my call with Katie. I should have anticipated that."  
  
Noah shook his head. He wasn't angry at Chris, but he was too tired to argue.  
  
"I doubt they were expecting to find _you_ guys there," Chris continued. "I think they came for me."  
  
"Yeah." Noah rubbed his face in his hands and breathed through the gaps between his fingers.  
  
"You did the right thing," Chris said after a moment.  
  
"Did I?" Noah slapped his palms on his thighs. "Or did I just run away? Tell me I didn't just leave Luke to die… please… tell me that, Chris!"  
  
Chris moved to sit beside his new friend. He placed a hand on Noah's shoulder, the only comfort he could give him; and winced when he realised Noah was still barefoot. The brunette's feet were pretty cut up, not that Noah seemed to notice.  
  
"Like I said before... even if the plan is to see you dead, they'll want both of you first. Luke should be safe as long as you're out here."  
  
Noah looked over at Chris with two hopeless blue eyes. "God, I hope you're right… because if you're not..." Noah's voice cracked painfully like glass.  
  
"Don't think the worst," Chris told him. "I managed to copy most of the information. Here…" he handed Noah a small USB stick suspended on a lanyard that advertised Oakdale Memorial Hospital. "…everything's saved on here. As back up…"  
  
Noah slipped the red lanyard over his neck and hid the stick down the front of his shirt. For the first time, he noticed he was still wearing the blue scrubs from the hospital. He actually laughed. "I'm a mess, aren't I? I must look like Jackson Avery on speed!"  
  
Chris smiled supportively. "You could use a razor and some soap, that's for sure. Though I'm not sure you'll want to risk contaminating yourself in that bathroom!"  
  
Noah wrinkled his nose. "Definitely not!"  
  
A loud knock at the door startled them and they propelled to their feet like they'd been mechanically ejected.  
  
"Shit!" Noah voiced through his teeth. "How did they find us?"  
  
Chris was silent for a moment and then the door knock came again. "They didn't,"  
  
"What?"  
  
"They didn't. It's impossible! My cell phone is powered off."  
  
Noah frowned at the door, realizing Chris might be right. If it was the FBI, they would have announced themselves by now. "Then who...?"  
  
After another loud knock, Chris stepped forward, took a deep breath and opened the door.  
  
Even as a mere outline in the hazy sunlight, Noah recognized Damian. Behind him stood two of his regulatory thugs; one large, one small.  
  
 _Such a cliché!_  
  
"Where's Luciano?" Damian asked, with narrow eyes and accusatory words striking like daggers.  
  
"The FBI took him into custody," Noah replied, trying not to look as ashamed as he felt. "How did you find us?"  
  
"The car we gave the good doctor is electronically tagged. Now finish answering my question."  
  
"I had to leave him behind," Noah confessed, feeling like a child caught stealing from a store and being made to apologize to the owner. He took a moment to catch Damian up on the series of events.  
  
"So you just ran away? Like the coward I always knew you were! You just left my son with those dogs!"  
  
"Now wait just one minute!" Chris intervened.  
  
Damian shot him a look like death warmed over. "This has nothing to do with you."  
  
With this thick accent, Damian's tone was somehow made more menacing.  
  
Determined he had enough to fear without the further intimidation from Luke's biological father, Noah stood his ground. "I didn't _want_ to leave him, Damian! I _had_ to!"  
  
"Do you know why you're in this pile of shit?" Damian exclaimed in anger, gesticulating dismissively at them with both arms flailing wildly. "It's because you did not listen to me!"  
  
"We _did_ listen," Noah insisted.  
  
"You did not listen!" Damian repeated.  
  
"Yes, we did!" Noah seethed back. "You told us to run! So we ran! You told us to hide. So we hid! You told us to change our names, leave our family! Everything! Everything you told us to do, we did!"  
  
Noah could feel the heat rising in his cheeks from anger that clawed at every fiber of his being. Not just at Damian, but at everything and everyone that stood in the way of them having the life they deserved.  
  
"I told you to keep a low profile!" Damian told him. "What do you do? You run off and kidnap some kid! You come out into the open!"  
  
"That kid…" The words started to stick in Noah's throat in gluey clumps as the full weight of his situation hit him. "…that kid…"  
  
 _Oh God!_  
  
"Out of everything we've done over the past 10 years… that kid is the only thing we did right…"  
  
Ignoring him, Damian continued. "You have betrayed me and everything I did for you! All the risks I took to save your life! You spit in my face in disrespect!"  
  
"Come on, Damian," Chris placated. "Can't you see Noah's been through enough?"  
  
"He's not the one sitting in a cold cell right now, Dr. Hughes! My son is!"  
  
"You think I _want_ this?" Noah bitterly asked. "I'd trade places with Luke in a heartbeat! But I _can't_!"  
  
"No. You can't," Chris agreed, turning back to Damian. "So we have to work extra hard to get Luke out of there."  
  
"We wouldn't be in this situation, if you'd stayed hidden instead of chasing after a… a fantasy!" Damian stated, still doing his best to ignore Chris as he addressed Noah.  
  
"When our cover was blown in Arlington, we couldn't start over from scratch. We just _couldn't_ , Damian." All the energy rushed from Noah's body and he sat heavily back on the bed; his elbows wedged into his knees and he ran fingers through his greasy hair as he whispered, "We just couldn't."  
  
"Okay. This ends now," Chris demanded in a surprisingly authoritative voice. "We're all tired and frazzled and tempers are high. We need food and sleep. Things will look clearer after some rest."  
  
Damian eyed the room with disgust. "Well, you won't survive long in this pit! My men will arrange to slip you into a proper hotel. And you'll need fresh clothes."  
  
But Noah had already curled himself into a ball on the bed and closed his eyes. With a heart as heavy as his exhaustion, he couldn't go anywhere. Even if he wanted to.


	35. Chapter 35

**St Louis, Missouri, Olive Street Adult Detention Center, 2019**  
  
Sitting on the cot, Luke pulled his knees into his chest and rested his chin between them; staring at the metal sink in his isolation cell.  
  
The tap had a slow drip; and he concentrated on each fat droplet as it slowly formed and swelled, until it magnified a tiny fly sitting on the rim of the sink. Eventually. it would grow too heavy; distort the fly's image, before dripping with a hollow splat that echoed down the drain.  
  
He supposed he should sleep. It wouldn't be long before Agent Williams began his next round of questioning. Luke understood this was a game; a way to wear him down, until he begged to tell all his secrets just for one moment of peace.  
  
 _I'm so fucking tired!_  
  
He'd tried to get information on Leo, but his pleading fell on deaf ears. They wouldn't even tell him the time, amplifying his disorientation. And they locked him away from the general population, not for his safety, Luke knew, but to break him.  
  
He lay back on the purposely-made concrete slab; the thin mattress providing little protection from the cold hardness beneath it. The florescent light above him spewed a slickly yellow he knew was designed to interfere with the prisoner's sleep.  
  
Directly over the bed, the vent for the air-conditioning blew a continuous stream of near freezing air, causing a relentless case of goose bumps. It was just another tool in the interrogator's arsenal to further torment him with.  
  
Luke wanted to scream and shout and lose it in one of his most spectacular Super Snyder breakdowns. But he wanted to stick it to his captures more. So he slowly blew air in and out, focusing his mind on Noah.  
  
He was more than relieved that Noah ran, certain he had Chris to thank for that. Regardless, he was so grateful he kept sending up small prayers of thanks for it. He knew that Noah would do whatever he could to follow through with their plan.  
  
"Listening, Sweetheart?"  
  
Luke may have been in isolation. But that didn't mean he couldn't hear the other prisoners. And they knew he was there, too. They knew the famous fugitive was somewhere in the cell block with them. Luke's face was all over the news.  
  
The prison voices were the worst thing about being there. They were a promise of things to come, if this turned out to be the rest of his life.  
  
"I got somethin' _real_ special to show you, when they let you out of the hole, Blondie," another voice teased and a few others cruelly laughed.  
  
Luke simply closed his eyes and tried to drift away inside his mind. He thought about Leo, and how at times like these Leo knew just how to make Luke laugh.  
  
 _I wish you were here to make me laugh now, Kiddo._  
  
A shuffling outside his cell door made him sit back up with his feet on the floor. The guard on duty opened the door, nodded at Luke before stepping back to reveal a beefy man in suit and tie, carrying a briefcase.  
  
The guard didn't wait to introduce the visitor, simply closed the door and left the two of them alone.  
  
"Hello, Luke," the man greeted with a deadpan face. "I'm Agent Lin."  
  
Luke felt his protective walls instantly rise up. He didn't like the look of this guy at all.  
  
All his life Luke had had a natural instinct for people. He was somehow able to look beyond the façade of the external person and reach the reality beneath. It was how, back when he first met Noah, he'd seen the beautiful person hiding behind the man Col. Mayer had tried to mold in his own warped image.  
  
And even with Agent Williams, although a complete 100 percent son-of-a-bitch, Luke knew the man was all business and professionalism. Williams was a person, who had a job to do and would go to the ends of the earth to achieve it. With Agent Williams, Luke at least somewhat knew where he stood.  
  
But this man was another story entirely. He put Luke instantly on edge. And Luke had an unsettling feeling he'd seen this man some place before.  
  
"Why are you here?" Luke asked. "I've already made it clear to Agent Williams that I'm done talking."  
  
The man smiled steadily. He took a seat on the end of Luke's cot and comfortably rolled up the sleeves of his white collared shirt. "Honestly, Luke. That's not really of any concern to me."  
  
Luke narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the man. He frantically wracked his brain as to the hint of recognition he was now sure was no coincidence.  
  
"You really should have stayed in hiding," Lin continued, adjusting the knot in his tie and brushing lint off his pants. "If you had, then there may never have been a cause for us to meet again."  
  
 _Meet again?_  
  
Luke searched his mind desperately.  
  
 _Again?_  
  
As the large man stood once more, his lower right arm leveled with Luke's eye-line; and the memory slammed Luke full force.  
  
 _No!_  
  
A cobra tattoo looked ready to strike; the tail curing around Agent Lin's wrist.  
  
"It's you…" Luke made a move for the door.  
  
"You don't want to do that," the man quickly warned.  
  
Luke turned on his feet and stared into the black eyes of Sen. Marsden's bodyguard, the same bodyguard who'd been there in Oakdale on that fateful day. Luke found himself once again racking his brain to recall the information.  
  
 _Garrett. His first name is Garrett._  
  
Garrett widly smiled. "Ah, I see you _do_ remember me. That's good. Then you know how very important it is to pay attention."  
  
Luke's head was overloading and he gaped at the man. "Why? Why are you doing this?"  
  
"The whys are none of your concern, Luke." His manner was all business and polar cold. "What you should be worrying about is keeping that good looking kid of yours safe. Leo, right?"  
  
Luke felt instantly sick as his son's name traced this man's tongue. "Don't you fucking touch him!"  
  
"And who's going to stop me? You?" Garrett laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Then gravely he turned back to Luke. "He's not doing so good. you know?"  
  
The breath blew from Luke's body and he sank back down to the cot. "What? What do you mean? He was fine, when we left him…"  
  
Garrett shook his head in mock sadness, clucking like a hen. "Seems he took a turn for the worse over night. Infection. Poor little guy. Looks so small and helpless in that big hospital bed… Only two sick adults for company..."  
  
 _Jesus! He's been in Leo's room!_  
  
Garrett looked pitifully up at Luke. "Doctors say he's really sick. But they think he's strong enough to pull through… unless of course… something should happen…"  
  
Luke's heart stopped. He had to claw at his chest to get it going again; and for a moment he felt like passing out. If they chose to hurt Leo, Luke was powerless to stop them. And they knew it.  
  
Barely able to function let alone speak Luke croaked, "What do you want?"  
  
"Luke, we both know you've reached the end of the road. You're not getting out of here; and pretty soon the FBI will catch up with Noah… if they haven't already done so."  
  
As he spoke, Garrett approached the small table and clicked open the locks on his briefcase. He removed a small notepad, a couple of pens and a calculator. Then Garrett felt along the sides until Luke heard a click. The bodyguard removed the briefcase's false bottom.  
  
"I have a little gift for you." Garrett reached inside and revealed a coiled up length of blue nylon rope, which he flung to the cot beside Luke.  
  
Luke felt his insides turn to ice.  
  
"I think we understand each other quite clearly. Right, Luke?" Garrett's eyes flicked to the air conditioning grate on the ceiling.  
  
The pure horror of what was being suggested to Luke sent the blood buzzing in his ears and the hairs on his arms to stand up. He was trapped. They had him right where they wanted him.  
  
"One of you dies today," Garrett continued, calmly packing up his briefcase, locking it and heading for the door. He knocked twice, waiting to be let out. "Only you can control which one it will be."  
  
Luke wanted to reach up and claw the man's eyes out; reach across and tear the man limb from limb. He couldn't help a parting defiant glare but all it achieved was to bring Garrett slithering right up to his face.  
  
"Don't think for one moment that I'm bluffing. Unless you do what is expected of you, I'll hurt him… I'll make sure he begs for mercy. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
The man backed away as the door opened; and waited for Luke's shaky nod of acceptance.  
  
"It's been nice chatting with you, Luke. Shame we won't get another chance."  
  
It was only after the key turned in the lock; and he was alone, that Luke realized he was crying. He peered down at the rope beside him, bile rising up his throat and shooting from his nostrils. He didn't even bother trying to make it to the small toilet in the corner. He vomited up beside the cot.  
  
Minutes, maybe hours, past. Time became irrelevant. In this place there existed only Luke, a dizziness, and the coiled blue snake beside him. Every time he reached out to touch it, his arm would shoot back as though burned. But finally he got to the point where he could rest his hand on it, grip it… then lift it.  
  
He pulled the rope through his hands. It reminded him of the reigns of the horses he used to ride as a boy. He found comfort in that at least. He tried to use that to make peace with what he had to do.  
  
His breathing was pretty shallow he'd noticed; his body already preparing to shut down in anticipation of the action he kept replaying in the back of his mind. He practiced each motion over and over, so that when he finally worked up the nerve, it might be easier like following the recipe in a cookbook.  
  
In a moment of terror, he considered reporting the whole incident to the superintendent. But he quickly dismissed that as folly. The only reality that existed was the threat to his son's life. And there was only one option to save him.  
  
The worst part was his inability to explain himself to Noah. The knowledge that Noah would blame himself for this, without knowing what had happened, sat heavy on Luke's heart. But that wasn't something Luke could worry about now.  
  
It was their cardinal rule… Leo was all that mattered.  
  
As he tied the rope into a hangman's noose, a memory flashed across his vision. It was of Noah squatting beside their toddler son, singing a rhyme to Leo, teaching the child how to tie his shoelaces.  
  
" _In through the rabbit hole, round the tree. Out pops the rabbit and off goes he..."_  
  
Noah's gentle voice in Luke's head soothed him. He felt himself slipping into a strange kind of tranquility; like a tethered boat bobbing lightly on the waters of a calm lake. He saw his family in the times where they were the happiest, laughing, playing ball. Noah running alongside Leo's bicycle as the child learned to balance.  
  
He stood on the edge of the cot; and snaked the end of the rope through the wire mesh of the air conditioning unit. He faded so far away from himself now. He performed this act as though he were watching someone else do it. Because, this simply couldn't be happening to him.  
  
The noose slipped easily over his head.  
  
He swallowed.  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
He pictured his family. All of them.  
  
He stepped off the cot.  
  
That was when the calm ended.  
  
The tightness of the noose was such a shock. His eyes watered. His toes scrapped the floor as his feet sought leverage. The instinct to survive was stronger than he ever imagined. He desperately clawed at the rope viciously digging into his neck.  
  
He'd never seen colors like the ones he was seeing flash across his vision.


	36. Chapter 36

**St Louis, Missouri, Hilton St-Louis Frontenac Hotel, 2019**  
  
Noah stirred when he felt the bed dip beside him. He breathed in freshly laundered Egyptian cotton sheets and blinked in confusion.  
  
Looking up, Chris' profile came into view. The doctor's attention was preoccupied with filling a needled syringe with substance from a small medical vile he tapped a few times with his middle finger.  
  
"What are you doing?" Noah muttered, still struggling to wake up. He glanced down to find he was still in the same dirty clothes as before. But the room had definitely had a facelift. "Where are we?"  
  
Chris frowned down at Noah with deep-set worry lines. "You don't remember?"  
  
"Remember what?"  
  
"Damian had us brought here last night. We had to sneak you up the service stairs."  
  
Noah lifted up on his elbows to find they were in some kind of fancy hotel suite. The paneled walls and soft carpet were in tones of honey-brown. Two large cream shutter-like doors led out into a second room, where Noah could just make out a set of comfortable sofas.  
  
Two of Damian's men sat there watching the television with the sound off; electronic light making colorful patterns on the walls.  
  
Now that he thought about it, he did have a vague memory of a stairwell. But at the time he thought he was dreaming.  
  
"What time is it?" Noah asked.  
  
"Almost 10 a.m."  
  
"What?" Noah exclaimed, getting angry. "How could you let me sleep for so long?"  
  
"Noah," Chris placated, sounding every bit like the doctor he was. "You _needed_ to sleep."  
  
"Fuck sleep, Chris!" Noah almost yelled. "Luke spends the night in prison because of me while I'm…" he paused. "Where am I?"  
  
"The Frontenac Hilton Hotel."  
  
That set Noah off in a wave of near hysterical, yet humorless giggling, as he was reminded of his argument with Luke at the cabin.  
  
"Well that's great!" he scoffed. "Just fucking great!"  
  
"Noah, just relax, okay?" Chris softly soothed, placing the vile on the side table and turning with the intention of sticking Noah with the needle.  
  
"What _is_ that?" Noah stopped laughing and his eyes narrowed with suspicion.  
  
"It's a sedative."  
  
Noah snorted with derision. "Chris, I've been sleeping for hours. Why the hell would you think I need a sedative?"  
  
Chris tried to hide it, but he was unsuccessful. Darkness flashed across the doctor's face and, in that moment, Noah knew something was terribly wrong as sure as he began to feel it.  
  
"Something's happened," he rasped.  
  
"No." Chris was such a bad lier. "Everything's fine. This will just help you to relax. That's all."  
  
But Noah battered away Chris' needle-wielding arm and sat up. "I don't want-"  
  
He stopped short when he caught sight of Damian marching past the open bedroom door with his cell phone stuck to his ear. Damian's face was like thunder. But as their eyes met, the sadness residing on the tanned European features of the older man froze Noah's heart.  
  
He scrambled out from under the luxurious covers of the hotel bed.  
  
"Noah, don't…" But as he spoke Chris just shook his head. He didn't try to stop Noah's mission to exit the room. He must have known it was a lost cause.  
  
On the large widescreen entertainment system, the CNN news cameras focused on a small empty podium situated outside an officious-looking brick building. The assembled press appeared to be waiting for something to happen.  
  
The scene set like ominous dread.  
  
Both of Damian's men watched Noah approach with a look of intense trepidation.  
  
"Turn it up," Noah softly requested without taking his eyes off the screen.  
  
The two men looked at each other unsure what to do.  
  
"I said turn it up!"  
  
That was more of a demand and the larger of Damian's men, a burly Mexican, reached for the remote from the expensively tiled coffee table and pressed the sound button. The room burst full with frantic mutterings and cameras clicking.  
  
"We have some movement now I believe," a broadcaster announced. "Yes, it's FBI Agent Adrian Williams. He has been responsible for leading this case, since Snyder reportedly resurfaced a few days ago in Arlington, Texas. Hopefully, Agent Williams can shed some light on the report we've received this morning."  
  
Noah's internal organs twisted at the somber expression on the agent's face. Part of him wanted to turn away, but he was mesmerized.  
  
Yelling over each other, reporters fired questions at Williams, as he approached the bank of microphones. Frustratingly, Noah couldn't make out exactly what they were asking. Eventually, Williams reached the set of microphones and held out his palms for quiet.  
  
A hush fell over the scene.  
  
"Before I read this official statement..." he waved the paper he held in his hand, "...let me make one thing clear. This is is not a press conference. Once I've made the announcement, I will not take any questions regarding this case."  
  
"Is it true?" Somebody impatiently shouted and Williams looked in that direction.  
  
The agent waited a moment and then faced the camera. Williams' eyes sent Noah's blood running as cold as his heart.  
  
A hushed buzz rippled through the crowd.  
  
"Today at 08:35 a.m., Luke Snyder was found hanged in his cell. Despite considerable efforts to revive the prisoner, he did not survive. He was pronounced dead on the scene at 9 a.m. Thank you."  
  
As Agent Williams stepped down from the podium, Noah lifted a shaky arm and pressed his palm flat against the cool plasma of the screen. He ran his hand sideways; back and forth; as though by doing so he could somehow erase what he'd just heard.  
  
He dropped like a lead weight instantly into denial... because this... _this_ was impossible to believe.  
  
Already he could feel the seams of his soul coming apart.  
  
He pressed his palms to his eyes to stem a sadness that could not be held back by his usual stoicism. It gushed out, regardless of his instinctive efforts in silent, breathless sobs.  
  
As Noah collapsed to his knees, he did the only thing he could. It came naturally to him, like breathing. He escaped within his mind. He wasn't in Missouri anymore. He was running through the woods surrounding Snyder Farm. Ahead of him, a yellow blur like sunshine darted between the trees, just outside his reach. It laughed like Luke; big and full and beautifully.  
  
He wanted to watch and listen but, instead, Noah tumbled off a cliff; and into the darkest most fathomless nothing he'd ever experienced. The blackness swallowed him whole, burning like fire.  
  
His family; his entire life; was gone forever because of a decision he'd pressed upon them.  
  
"Noah!"  
  
A voice kept dragging at him, pulling him up out of his dream and back into a reality he couldn't face or accept.  
  
"Noah?" Somebody shook him hard. "Noah!"  
  
The voice echoed inside Noah's head, panicked and worried for him. But Noah was disorientated and mentally drained.  
  
Broken.  
  
So broken he knew he was finished.  
  
"Oh, God!" he wailed.  
  
The sorrow he tried so desperately to bottle bubbled up like a shaken soda can. It couldn't be contained and escaped from within his body in the form of an anguished scream, reverberating off the walls.  
  
He shrugged off the hands that tried to ground him and pushed himself up off the floor.  
  
Stumbling forward, he sought to escape the room that suddenly felt too small to breathe in. As well as the eyes of the other men, all helplessly watching him. He reached for the hotel door but Chris blocked his path, holding tightly to Noah's arms; pushing him back.  
  
"Noah, where are you going?"  
  
For a moment Noah wasn't sure. But then he was. "I need," he agonized, "I need to be with him…"  
  
As that plan formulated Noah fought forward. But Chris kept struggling to hold him back.  
  
"No!" Chris insisted.  
  
"Please... I have to go!"  
  
"Noah! You won't get anywhere near that prison! You hear me?"  
  
Frustrated, Noah turned to stride back into the room, only to have nowhere to go.  
  
He stood in the center of a blurring space that spun circles round him. His body had never shaken so much; like something huge and frightening wanted to burst right through him. Desperately he racked his brain for something stable to cling onto; anything to ground him.  
  
But he had nothing.  
  
A standing vase took the full brunt of Noah's pent-up anger and burning grief, as the brunette kicked it flying across the room. It narrowly missed the uncharacteristically quiet Damian, before shattering on the opposite wall.  
  
"Noah!" he heard Chris say. "Take it easy, man!"  
  
Noah whirled on Chris. "Take it easy?" His eyes widened in wild disbelieving fury. "Take it easy? Fuck you, Chris! Fuck all of you!" He flung his arms around; panic stealing his air. "Oh, my God, no!" Both hands lifted to his head that throbbed painfully. "Oh God... oh God, no…"  
  
The gun was just sitting there on the sideboard like an open invitation. He lunged for it, craving the release it was sure to bring.  
  
But Chris anticipated the move and got there first; snatching up the handle.  
  
"Give it!" Noah begged.  
  
Chris shook his head, "It's not the answer…"  
  
"Then what is?" Noah pleaded. "What? You tell me… Please! Because it's Luke! It's _Luke_ , Chris! I have nothing left…"  
  
"Yes you do!" Chris insisted. "You have a son."  
  
Noah took a shaky step back at that.  
  
"Leo is still out there..." Chris continued, pointing at the windows, as though the boy could be seen right through them at that very moment. "...and he's waiting for his dad to come and get him. You're so close to finding out the truth!"  
  
Noah dropped once more to his knees. "I can't do this without him. I can't… I can't…"  
  
Chris knelt in front of his friend and placed a hand on Noah's shoulder. "Yes, you can. He'd want you too…"  
  
Noah sorrowfully shook his head. "You told me this wouldn't happen."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't think Luke would..."  
  
"He wouldn't!" Noah seethed. "He didn't! _They_ got to him, Chris! Luke would _never_ do this to me! _Never_! Not… not unless he _had_ to."  
  
Noah gasped at the thought of what Luke must have gone through. That thought grew, manifesting itself into fury. It polluted his insides like a sooty black cloud. Suddenly, Noah felt nothing but raw energy coursing through his veins.  
  
Chris seemed to notice the scary change in him. "What are you thinking?" he asked, seemingly freaked out by what he was observing.  
  
Noah looked forward for a long time, then back at the television where CNN was airing file footage from the original case. He turned to Chris with a renewed fiery determination. "I need to know where he's staying."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Agent Williams." Noah turned to Damian. "Can you find out?"  
  
Damian, himself shell-shocked by the news, nodded at his men and the smaller of the two pulled a cell phone from his pocket and left the room as he dialed.  
  
"What are you planning, Noah?" Damian asked.  
  
But Noah was too busy gathering himself for the fight; wiping the tears from his eyes.  
  
"I need to shower." He was without emotion; the ice running startlingly cold through his blood, pounding in solid bursts likes drums.  
  
"The… um… the bathroom's off the bedroom," Chris shakily told him. "There are folded fresh clothes for you on the linen basket."  
  
Noah willed himself to stand. He took a moment to steady his legs and bury the pain into some deep place in his soul, where it couldn't interfere with what needed to be done.  
  
Noah's father would have been proud.


	37. Chapter 37

**Oakdale, Illinois, Snyder Farm, 2019**  
  
To her credit, Lily had done a good job of hiding her sorrow from the small dark-haired boy, who'd turned up so unexpectedly; like a beacon of light to their lost Snyder ship.  
  
Her movements were a little quicker than normal. But with bloodshot eyes, she smiled her best smile; dishing extra crispy bacon on Leo and Ethan's breakfast plates.  
  
"Where's Grandma Emma?" Ethan asked.  
  
If there was anything that could give away the barely concealed adult turmoil, it was Holden's absent mother. Try as she might, Emma continued to break down every time she thought of Luke. And the presence of Leo was a strong reminder of their loss.  
  
For Leo's own good, Lily had taken up the chore of making breakfast for the boys, even though Holden knew Lily really wanted to crawl into bed and never come out again. As did he.  
  
Holden squeezed Ethan's shoulder. "Mama wasn't feeling well this morning, Son. She'll be fine though. It's just a little head cold…"  
  
Ethan shrugged. "Must be going round…"  
  
"Why do you say that?" Holden asked, swallowing thickly.  
  
"I heard Natalie sniffing in her room this morning; and Mom's eyes are all swollen and her nose is red like she's been cr-"  
  
"Hey, Ethan?" Lily quickly interrupted. "I drove Eva here from Grandma Lucinda's house this morning. She's outside feeding the chickens. Why don't you go and introduce Leo?"  
  
Holden thought his son might protest. But Ethan popped a final rash of bacon in his mouth and hopped off his chair.  
  
"Come on, Leo!" he called.  
  
Leo was still a little unsure of himself, though he grew in confidence with each passing minute.  
  
It was quickly clear to them that he shared Noah's forethought. As he'd told them his story the previous day, he'd taken his time with each and every sentence. He'd think it over first, before delivering it in what Holden was proud to recognize as Luke's eloquence.  
  
In fact, Leo was the perfect blend of Luke and Noah. And for the few hours they'd had with the boy with them, it was like a missing piece of the Snyder puzzle had slotted back into place.  
  
Then hope was pummeled once more by the dreadful news that morning, when Natalie innocently turned on the television to check on Luke's progress. It was like a ton of bricks being dropped on Holden's heart.  
  
Another dark cloud covered the sun.  
  
Now, Holden watched this anxious boy glancing between the adults in the room. Leo was so like Noah in looks and Luke in manner that it physically hurt to be around him.  
  
The boy seemed to be searching for permission so Holden nodded encouragingly at him. Finally, Leo wiped his mouth on a napkin and got up to follow Ethan.  
  
"Thanks for breakfast. It was delicious," he shyly told Lily on the way out the door.  
  
As soon as they stepped over the threshold, his wife's eyes spilled over. "Oh, Holden! How are we going to tell him?"  
  
Over the years, they'd always held a hope that Luke and Noah were happy and alive somewhere. It was the only thing that kept the family going during those dark days. But if he were honest, Holden had to admit that a part of them had grieved as anyone would if they'd lost a loved one to death.  
  
It had taken its toll on his relationship with Lily, too. For a few years, they'd even separated from the strain of it all. But they shared a strong love. They were, after all, soul mates. Eventually, they'd found their way back to each other.  
  
Despite loosing both the boys in such a shocking way, life had to go on. They had other children to consider.  
  
So it was almost unbelievable. Here they were, forced to lose their son all over again. The pain of it was excruciating and would perhaps have destroyed them this time around had the angels not seen fit to send them Leo.  
  
Now Leo's well being became their full focus. Fate had entrusted him to their care. They would put aside their own pain to harbor and protect him.  
  
"We're not going to tell him," Holden replied. "It will be a family effort. But we somehow need to keep that kid away from the television; and everybody else away from the farm. I'm not sure how we'll do that once the rest of the family hear the news. But the less people who know of Leo's existence the better."  
  
Lily nodded her agreement.  
  
"The last thing that boy needs right now is to be carted off by Child Protection Services." Holden continued. "As much as possible, we need to act like nothing's changed."  
  
"For how long?" she chocked.  
  
"Until Noah's had a chance to succeed. It would make it easier on the boy, if he had Noah back."  
  
"What if Noah fails?" Lily sadly asked.  
  
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but at least we know he has Damian's backing. I may not like that man, but he's got connections and money that can help Noah along the way."  
  
Lily angrily shook her head. "I knew he had something to do their disappearance! And he lied right to my face, when I begged him to tell me! He let us think they may be dead!"  
  
"Nothing Damian does surprises me," Holden replied.  
  
"I don't want to see that little boy broken any more than he already is," Lily sobbed. "I couldn't bare that on top of everything else!"  
  
Holden approached her and kissed her forehead. "I know it's hard. We just have to keep faith in Noah."  
  
…  
  
Eva, as it turned out, was a chubby strawberry blonde with big blue eyes and a cheeky smile that dimpled much like her brothers'.  
  
"I'm Evangeline," she announced when Ethan tried to introduce them. "That means surprise. Because when I was born, Mommy and Daddy weren't expecting me. So I was a surprise... see?"  
  
"Urg!" Ethan exclaimed; annoyed by his little sister's overblown sense of self-importance.  
  
She shot him a look of warning and stood with her hands firmly placed on her hips.  
  
Leo's first thought was that Eva looked a lot like Grandma Emma. She had the same roundness about her; the same curly hair and rosy cheeks.  
  
"I'm 8," she continued. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Leo and… um… I know this is gonna sound kinda weird but… I guess I'm your nephew and… you're my aunt."  
  
The girl bulked at him. "I can't be your aunt, Stupid! Aunts are old! Everybody knows that!"  
  
"Yeah?" Ethan challenged, coming to Leo's defense.  
  
"Yeah!" she responded, curls bobbing.  
  
As if to prove her point, Eva proceeded to ring off a long list of all the aunts she could remember, all of whom, in her opinion, were old.  
  
"Well, shows what you know!" Ethan teased. "Leo is Luke's son, so that makes him our nephew! So there!"  
  
Her mouth gaped open. "Luke?"  
  
Leo nodded, biting his lower lip.  
  
Her eyes rounded even more than they already were naturally. "You've seen Luke?"  
  
Leo laughed. "Yeah. He's my pop."  
  
She frowned. "What does that mean?  
  
Ethan sighed. "Luke is Leo's dad, Dummy!"  
  
"Then why doesn't he just _say_ that?" she asked, frustrated. "Geez!"  
  
Leo smiled. "Well, because it would get kinda confusing, if I called both of my dads, Dad."  
  
It was obvious that Eva was now completely confused.  
  
"Okay," Leo tried to explain. It wasn't the first time he'd had to explain his family makeup. "It's like this. My dad is Noah. He's my real dad. I mean… he's my dad like Holden's your dad… see?"  
  
She nodded slowly, but her nose was crinkled and he could see her mind spinning.  
  
"My dad and pop are together, like your mom and dad are together. So that means Luke is also my dad. But I can't also call him Dad. So I call him Pop instead," Leo said, pausing to take a deep breath.  
  
Eva regarded him for a moment, while she tried to wrap her head around it.  
  
"Whatever, Dude!" she curtly replied, rolling her eyes at Leo like he was beneath her high level of intellect. "At least me and Ethan didn't have to go to school today!"  
  
She made Leo laugh. He liked her instantly; and he knew she really was going to live up to her name, when his pop found out about her.  
  
 _If he ever gets the chance._  
  
"Wanna help feed the chickens?" Eva asked, steering them from a subject she didn't understand to one she knew all about.  
  
"Sure."  
  
She spent a few minutes showing Leo how to spread the corn around the yard. She was very precise and specific; telling him off when he didn't do it right. She told him to watch out for the numerous clucking hens and roosters pecking away at their feet.  
  
"It's not nice to stand on them," she insisted, wagging her finger at him.  
  
With the chickens fully fed, Ethan and Eva proceeded to show him how to search the raised hen boxes for eggs. He found one or two himself and lifted them gently from the nest box to lay them in the basket Eva had placed on the ground nearby. He was surprised at how warm they felt in his hands.  
  
All the while, he answered their questions regarding Luke and Noah. Ethan and Eva specifically wanted to know what Luke was like.  
  
"Do you remember anything about him?" Leo asked Ethan, flinching a little from the pain in his side when he bent to deposit an egg.  
  
"Some," Ethan replied. "I know he used to read me tons of stories. I remember sitting on his lap and he would make…"  
  
"…voices?" Leo finished almost wistfully.  
  
"Yeah!" Ethan laughed. "And he used to swing me onto his shoulders. I remember Noah used to do that a whole lot, too."  
  
Leo discovered a whole new level of comfort being around the other Snyder children; a familial feeling he's never known before. The lightheartedness of the task they were undertaking helped to distract Leo from the near crippling worry he would otherwise feel.  
  
His whole life, Leo's parents had always been together. Now they were split apart; and Leo didn't know how one would be without the other. He may have been young, with little understanding when it came to the secret world of adult relationships. But even at his age, he knew the level of his parent's connection ran deeper than anything.   
  
Eventually, all the eggs were collected and all that remained was to replace the old straw in their nests with new. Once finished, Eva allowed Leo to carry the basket of eggs back inside to the safety of the kitchen.  
  
Leo had quickly discovered that the Snyder kitchen was the warmest and most comfortable part of the house. It was huge, big enough to fit at least 30 people; rustically furnished with a well-used wooden table and chairs.  
  
In the center was a sold island butcher block around which the family often stood and shared the job of preparing meals.  
  
There always seemed to be somebody in the kitchen. The room was alive; a piece of living historic architecture.  
  
"Would you just look at them all!" Grandma Emma exclaimed when they marched inside. "Look how many eggs you found!" She softly rubbed Leo's shoulder. "Leo's our lucky charm today, isn't he?"  
  
"Yeah!" the other two children agreed just before Eva disappeared up the staircase.  
  
Leo felt a little uneasy. Emma too had puffy eyes and carried a used handkerchief.  
  
He looked over into the kitchen, where Lily and Natalie sat at the table; Holden standing close by. They all smiled reassuringly at him. But still. Something felt off.  
  
"Dad, can we go riding?" Ethan hopefully asked.  
  
"I don't know, Eth…" Holden replied. "Leo needs to take it easy, you know? I'm not sure he's up for that yet. Why don't you two take him down to the barn, show him how to muck out and brush them down."  
  
"Really?" Excitement coursed through Leo's veins. Being near horses was something he'd always loved. His pop's stories being the main driving factor behind that.  
  
His parents had taken Leo for the odd ride here and there, whenever they could afford the riding school fee. But this was different. This was a _real_ farm; the place of his father's childhood.  
  
Holden's smile was warm. "Of course. You guys stay outside and play today. The weather is perfect. Just take it easy, okay? Rest if you're tired."  
  
"Don't worry, Daddy!" Eva importantly replied, arriving back in the kitchen. She wore a plastic stethoscope around her neck and was in the process of pulling a nurse's cap, topped with a red cross, over her head. "I'm a nurse. I'll take care of him. It's my job, you know?"  
  
…  
  
Caring for horses, Leo discovered, was pretty darn exhausting. A few hours later, he dropped down on an upturned barrel; struggling to catch this breath. He laughed when Eva came quickly to his side armed with a plastic bottle of water.  
  
He allowed her to feel his forehead, a serious expression of consideration on her sweet freckled face. She ran through a list of ridiculous medical questions, to which he gave as serious an answer as he could muster. Seemingly satisfied, she nodded and returned to her chores.  
  
Leo sat there for a while; content to drink while he watched Ethan and Eva run their brushes carefully over the brown and white spots of Anchor's coat. Eva kept up a constant insistence that her way of using the brush was right and her brother didn't have a clue what he was doing.  
  
This went on until the siblings heard the rumble of a car engine and they both stilled to listen. Eva was the first to drop her brush.  
  
"Faith!" she grinned. "Faith and Ian are here!"  
  
The two kids excitedly raced each other out the barn and Leo slowly followed behind.  
  
A red car parked up beside Holden's truck and a pretty young woman in a floral dress stepped out.  
  
 _Faith. Pop's sister, Faith._  
  
Faith left the car door open to run up the grass bank; long hair flowing behind her. She flung herself into the arms of Emma and Lily.  
  
Leo was too far away to hear what was being said, but it was clear Faith was terribly upset.  
  
Leo's attention turned back to the car, where a young man with reddish-brown hair stood forlornly watching the scene.  
  
Ethan and Eva had come to a standstill close to where the three women stood.  
  
There was an intense stab to Leo's heart and the images began to blur together. He felt himself falling.  
  
"Whoa there!" Holden's strong arms caught him from behind before he hit the ground. "Looks like somebody needs an afternoon nap…"  
  
"I'm fine," Leo replied.  
  
But he didn't complain as Holden carried him back to the house, up the stairs and into the bedroom that was once his pop's.


	38. Chapter 38

**St Louis, Missouri, Fairview Inn, 2019**  
  
Adrian finally made it back to his hotel room at around 6 p.m. His body ached and his mind craved rest. But before hitting the hay, he needed a shower.  
  
He chucked his car rental keys; and emptied his pockets, including his federal badge, on the coffee table. Then flipped off his shoes without bothering to undo the laces, ignoring the internal voice of his mother chastising him for it.  
  
The socks followed the shoes and he padded across the carpet to the bathroom, where he reached over to turn on the taps. The showerhead shuddered into life, pipes screaming for a minute until the pressure stabilized. While the water warmed up, he strolled back into the bedroom to change out of his suit.  
  
He was now more than certain Mayer was still getting help from Grimaldi. But the FBI spent a day turning the Grimaldi mansion inside out yielding not one scrap of evidence implicating Snyder's old man. And to make matters worse, Grimaldi had somehow managed to shake the car Adrian had tailing him. Adrian shuddered to think what the man was up to, especially after hearing the morning's news about Snyder.  
  
Adrian sighed as he removed his gun holster strap, laying it on the bed before undressing; tired fingers fumbling lazily at the buttons on his shirt. Two minutes later, he was naked and on his way back to the bathroom. But not before slipping his 40-calibar handgun out of the holster and taking it with him. After years of close calls and flying bullets, his gun went everywhere he did.  
  
He spent a few minutes examining his body in the bedroom's full-length mirror, sighing and frowning at the imperfections brought on by age; and wishing for the physique he had in his 20s.  
  
By the time he entered the bathroom, the mirror was totally fogged over. Steam hung below the ceiling like a cloud. He placed the gun on the stone surface next to the sink and stepped over the edge of the bath and under the heated water. It felt marvelous; better than he'd hoped. The water was just the right level of force and heat to massage deeply into his sore shoulders. Some of the tension, guilt and strain he felt over this difficult case began to melt away.   
  
He closed his eyes, sticking his head under the flow so the water cascaded down his face.  
  
Sound was muffled in this wet world. But not so much that he didn't hear the distinct cocking of a gun.  
  
He pretended not to have heard it. Keeping his eyes closed, he feigned reaching for the soap, and then lurched quickly for the vicinity of where he'd left his gun. "  
  
Don't!" Noah warned, taking aim at Adrian's temple. "Keep cool and move back."  
  
Adrian was frozen in the stretch position. "  
  
Don't think I won't shoot you," Noah coolly said. "Trust me… right now I'd like nothing better than to blow your brains out."  
  
Noah's distinctive eyes, which Adrian had come to know well from photographs, were no longer their usual ocean blue. They had turned black and blank.  
  
For the first time, Adrian truly understood the look he'd seen on Snyder's face during their interview, when Luke voiced his fear of Noah being forced to kill. Standing before Adrian now was not a civilian, not even a fugitive. Standing before Adrian now was a full-bodied, 100 percent soldier - a machine - trained to channel raw emotion into energy and complete his mission no matter the cost.  
  
The look on this man's face was enough to petrify Adrian into submission. He nodded at Mayer, holding up both his hands and moving back as requested.  
  
"Good," Noah nodded. "Now turn off the water."  
  
As Adrian followed these orders, Noah reached over to grab a folded hotel towel, which he chucked at Adrian.  
  
"Cover up," he commanded.  
  
As Adrian caught and then wrapped the towel around his waist, he felt like hitting his head against the bathroom wall. He was being held hostage by his own gun. What a classic mistake! Annoyance building courage he asked, "What do you want?"  
  
"How's my son?" Noah's voice wobbled for the first time; his large Adam's apple bobbed.  
  
For a moment, Adrian was at a loss. This man was already unstable. The last thing Adrian wanted to do was add fuel to a forest fire by admitting they'd lost young Leo. He tried defiance. "Just who do you think you are barging in here like…"  
  
"I know who _you_ think I am. You probably believe I did all that _shit_ they say I did. Nothing could be further from the truth. But if you believe it, then you must have some idea of how pissed off I am right now! So don't fucking mess with me!"  
  
"He's doing great," Adrian lied. Telling Noah his son was missing would be a deadly mistake. Instinct told Adrian that.  
  
Noah released a shaky breath. "Does he know?"  
  
Again, Adrian's mind spun with how much to tell him. But Noah read the way Adrian broke eye contact to mean yes; and his shoulders sagged under a heavy weight. Sadness became obvious over Noah's features now, the mask he wore slipping slightly.  
  
Adrian tried to use that to his advantage. But as he moved, his foot slipped.  
  
"Don't!" Noah demanded, his finger pressing the trigger part-way down, making Adrian focus on the barrel. "Don't be fucking stupid, Williams! I'm only just holding it together here! And I really, really want to hurt somebody right now!" Noah's nostrils flared, his eyes flashing with a thousand emotions.  
  
It was terrifying but oddly beautiful to watch how this man swallowed the grief and pushed it down until all that remained was the same soldier, who'd first entered the bathroom.  
  
"Sit!" Noah yelled.  
  
Adrian didn't question it. He sat down on the wet porcelain bottom of the bath; as sure as anything that Noah had almost killed him. And that thought seemed to have scared Noah just as much as it scared Adrian.  
  
A full five minutes past without either one of them speaking.  
  
"It's getting kinda chilly in here, Mayer. I mean, it's a pretty stupid place for you to come, if all you planned on doing was sitting in the same room as me for no reason."  
  
Noah chuckled without any humour. "Yeah. I guess it is kinda crazy. I guess… I guess I am kinda crazy now."  
  
"So… Why _are_ you here?"  
  
"I figured I… I've got one shot at this and… I need to trust somebody. You're that somebody."  
  
"Why me? I'm not sure if you've noticed but I'm the one trying to apprehend you."  
  
Noah leaned back against the vanity counter, trying to give his gun-wielding hand a break. He took a moment to speak, and when he did, his voice broke through the sentence. "Luke is…" saying the name made Noah sway as though drunk. "Luke…" He breathed in a wheezed breath; fighting back tears. He made a small pained sound but eventually got control back. "Luke was always good at reading people. He… um… he told me he didn't think you knew."  
  
"Knew what?" Adrian asked.  
  
"The truth."  
  
"Snyder already told me this so called..." Adrian lifted his fingers to write the quotation marks in the air, "…'truth'… I'll tell you what I told him… I don't believe you."  
  
"So…" Noah continued. "That's it? Luke and I were so angry at my dad for rejecting me that we stormed a military base; and murdered a bunch of people just to get to him? Even though neither of us have violent histories?"  
  
Adrian shrugged. "It's not about what I think, Mayer. It's about what the evidence showed. I mean, if you're so innocent, why are you only fighting your case now? Why have you waited?"  
  
"Do you remember what it was like to be 19 years old, Agent Williams? I mean, really remember? Put yourself in our shoes at 19, assuming we were innocent and framed for something we didn't do. Then add a couple of adults yelling and screaming at you and telling you about lethal injections, and the court system and how things were gonna to be! God! We just wanted to be together! We just wanted it to all go away!"  
  
Adrian squeezed his eyes and asked, "Just what is it you want from me?"  
  
"I've been thinking about it," Noah told him. "And Charles... I mean… Senator Marsden, couldn't have done all this by himself. He had to have had help from inside law enforcement! It's the only way they could have planted the evidence. I'm sure there were a lot of people on the senator's payroll. But somebody high up, maybe even an FBI official, is holding the controls to this game."  
  
As Noah spewed his conjecture, Adrian's investigative mind, already filled with a small seed of doubt even before he heard Prisoner Snyder's story, germinated. He couldn't help but see how this puzzle somewhat fitted together. Noah was staring at him. Adrian wasn't sure how long things in the bathroom had turned so quiet.  
  
"You see it, don't you?" Noah softly asked. "You don't want to believe it. But no matter how you try, you can't paint over it, can you?" Adrian remained silent as Noah leaned forward. "All this case needs..." Noah told him, "...is for somebody on the inside to look at the evidence from a different perspective. One where you can see what's right in front of you rather than what you're expected to believe… Think about it." Noah was halfway through the door when he stopped and swung on his heels. "Oh, by the way? I was hiding in the closet, when you came in and... you don't have anything to worry about… you're in pretty good shape for a man in his mid-40's."  
  
Adrian couldn't believe it, but Noah's comment made him blush. He felt the heat rise from his toes to his forehead and it temporarily stunned him. By the time he'd shaken himself loose and stumbled from the bath, Mayer was long gone.  
  
Quickly he reached for his phone, intent on calling in the dogs, only to pause at the very last minute. Instead, he powered up his laptop resting on the room's writing desk.   
  
Using his Level 1 security clearance, he accessed the old FBI case files; something he'd done over a dozen times that long week. This time, however, he knew exactly what he was looking for and he found it quickly.  
  
A phone number.  
  
He dialed and waited.  
  
A sad and tired voice answered on the other end of the line.  
  
"Good evening, Sir," Adrian said. "Am I speaking with Holden Snyder?"


	39. Chapter 39

**St Louis, Missouri, Saint Louise University Hospital, 2019**  
  
Surely, he was in Hell.  
  
He wasn't quite sure what he'd done to deserve it, although he suspected that perhaps the Catholic Church was right - suicide was a mortal sin after all. At least it was the only thing he could think of terrible enough to warrant him an eternity of damnation.  
  
He knew for sure he was in Hell by the deep and relentless blackness of the place; and by the serpent tightly wrapped around his neck.  
  
He wondered whether it was the same snake that had tempted Eve with an apple. But he supposed he'd never know for sure. There was nobody to ask. It seemed part of experiencing Hell was to be totally alone.  
  
After a few years like this, he knew he'd lose his mind.  
  
Perhaps that would be for the best.  
  
The serpent showed no mercy. Every time he tried to breathe the snake would coil tighter and limited the flow of air making each intake and exhale excruciatingly painful. Even when he tried to defy the reptile by holding his breath, he couldn't. There was something forcing him to breathe; rhythmically pumping the air down his lungs even though his throat burned like fire in protest.  
  
He missed Noah. He couldn't remember a time he'd ached so much for Noah. He wondered whether this was another of Hell's punishments; to be left with all his life memories and yet bereft of Noah's love.  
  
Perpetuity like this was hard to fathom.  
  
He found himself somewhere between wakefulness and sleep; unsure whether his eyes were open or closed. The shadow made it difficult to tell. The only sound was a faint electronic beeping that increased in volume, until is was right beside him; driving him crazy with its ceaseless monotony.  
  
By now he was so desperate for human contact, that when he felt a hand encapsulate his own he called out for Noah, even though he knew it couldn't possibly _be_ him.  
  
…  
  
Holden couldn't get over the immense and inhumane cruelty of the FBI's ploy. Sure it was their job to catch fugitives; but to falsely announce Luke's death in the hopes of flushing out Noah was simply unforgivable. Indeed, heartless beyond any words in Holden's dictionary.  
  
Even if Noah had been guilty and deserved it, which of course he wasn't and didn't; the blow this news had on the extended Snyder family was borderline catastrophic.  
  
During their brief phone conversation, Agent Williams tried his best to justify his actions. "We hoped Mayer might give himself up, if he felt he had nothing left to fight for."  
  
But Holden wasn't about to give Williams anything that might help soothe any guilt the agent felt. He fired a few choice words in Williams' direction before hanging up.  
  
He spent five minutes letting the family know of Luke's condition and then drove off toward St. Louis. He broke a few speed laws on the way and perhaps even picked up a fine or two. But Holden couldn't think about that now.  
  
…  
  
After years of not knowing and a day of mourning internally, while trying to keep the tragic news from the younger Snyders, especially Leo, Holden could barely believe Luke was just beyond this hospital room door.  
  
He stood fidgeting as he waited for the prison guards on duty to confirm the visitor.  
  
Finally, Holden was allowed entry to the patient's room.  
  
The window blinds were drawn and the only light came from two small spots above the bed. The doctor had warned him about the breathing tube. But it was still a shock to find Luke connected to a group of machines. All the wires made the gravity of the situation that much starker, even though the doctor said Luke would be fine.  
  
The room had that distinct hospital disinfectant smell Holden had long ago come to associate with Luke. Holden recalled spending hours by this boy's bedside, first when Luke suffered kidney failure as a child; and again while Luke recovered from a lifesaving organ transplant.  
  
But even back then, he'd never heard his son make the raw rasping sounds he did now. Luke's chest shuddered on each exhalation. His neck was wound with a white bandage that Holden reached out to touch, running his hand gently along it; imaging the painful red and black welt that must surely reside underneath the gauze.  
  
The shaking father took a seat beside his son; and ran the pad of one thumb under Luke's eyes, trying to erase the black tension there.  
  
 _I wish you had come to me. I wish you had let me help you._  
  
As he placed his hand over Luke's, the young man shifted in his sleep. Luke's lips moved like he was trying to say something.  
  
Holden gently shushed his precious son; stroking his free hand through Luke's sweat matted hair, just like he had when Luke was a small boy.  
  
He tried not to think about the kind of turmoil that would make a man do this to himself.  
  
According to Agent Williams, it was a simple twist of fate that Luke survived at all. Kept in solitary confinement, Luke had no way of distinguishing night from day. Had he known, he'd likely not have chosen spot on morning roll call to commit his act.  
  
Holden shivered.  
  
Had Luke stepped off that prison cot any earlier, he'd have died for sure. As it was, the guards on duty opened the door to his cell just in time to save him.  
  
Holden sat there beside his son for three hours, ignoring the frequent buzz of his cell phone against his thigh. He knew they would be anxiously awaiting news back at the farm and he should get up to call Lily.  
  
But he couldn't bring himself to remove his hand from Luke's or leave Luke on his own. He sensed Luke would feel the loss; and he couldn't do that to his child. Not after everything the poor kid had been through.  
  
…  
  
Something kept Luke tethered. Had it not, he'd have long ago drifted even deeper into Hell. But something kept pulling him back. With each gentle tug outward things became lighter.  
  
He could swear somebody was saying his name. He knew the voice like it belonged to some long-ago childhood fairy tale. There was so much warmth in it; drawing Luke closer like a fire in winter.   
  
The lightness brightened with each passing minute, even though the serpent remained coiled around his throat.  
  
Hell was smolderingly hot and he was terribly thirsty. But at least the snake no longer tormented him as much as it had been.  
  
It was sudden; his awakening - shocking.  
  
With a sudden whoosh of blood through his ears, all the light rushed toward him and a face appeared in his vision. Blinking, the blurriness subsided; and as he realized who the face belonged to, he thought it remarkable.  
  
God must have heard his pleas for clemency because, somehow, he'd been elevated into Heaven.  
  
…  
  
Auburn eyes flecked with gold so like Lily's, flickered over Holden's face. As the haze that resided there cleared, his son gripped his hand so tight, Holden winced. Luke's other hand reached over to claw at Holden's lower arm; feeling all the way up to Holden's shoulder; his neck; stopping to spread fingers over Holden's lips.  
  
"I'm real." Holden assured him with a soft smile. "I'm here."  
  
As comprehension dawned, Holden watched Luke's amazement turn to terror and Luke began to scratch at his own neck, rasping in his desperation to speak.  
  
"Luke, relax!" his father ordered.  
  
Luke's entire body shivered as though he were cold. His eyes bulged out of his head; his panic cutting off air to his lungs. The machines began a crazy beeping, causing Luke's doctor and two male nurses to storm into the room.  
  
The lights were flicked on, almost blinding Holden as the nurses struggled to disconnect the grip Luke had on his father. But Luke was having none of it. His eyes pleaded for Holden to understand somehow.  
  
"Luke..." Holden explained, trying to soothe his boy by stroking the blonde head. "...you have a tube down your throat. You can't talk right now, okay? But if you calm down for just a moment, maybe the doctor here can remove it…"  
  
Holden hopefully glanced up at the doctor who offered a doubful frown, but spent a moment examining Luke as best he could with Luke flailing about.  
  
Seemingly satisfied, the doctor nodded. "Luke, my name is Dr. Strand. I'm going to pull the tube up and out of your throat and nose now," he explained. "I need you to relax, okay? I can't do it while your muscles are all strung tight like this."  
  
Holden watched his son glance between them before nodding his agreement. Luke closed his eyes and clutched Holden's fingers; willing himself to calm and be patient, definitely not virtues processed by the boy Holden remembered.  
  
"Okay, that's good," the doctor smiled. "Now I need you to take a deep breath through your nose and I'm going to pull the tube out as you exhale. On the count of three… one… two… three!"  
  
As the tube cleared Luke's nostril, he chocked and spluttered for a moment, wheezing for air.  
  
One of the nurses placed a few ice chips on Luke's tongue. He made short use of them, swallowing the chips whole in his desperation or relief from the throaty burn.  
  
His eyes leaked out the sides as he quickly turned back to Holden. "I can't…" he coughed. There was barely any sound to his voice.  
  
Holden leaned in, positioning his ear right by Luke's lips. "I'm listening, Son."  
  
"I _can't_ be alive!"  
  
Holden squeezed his eyes shut; a rolling wave of emotion slamming through him. He felt instantly sick and wrapped Luke in his arms as much as he could. "Oh, God, Son… Please don't talk that way… Please…"  
  
"Dad? Dad?" Luke repeated, urgently pushing Holden's chest to get his attention. "Please…"  
  
"It's okay, Luke…"  
  
But Luke was fervently shaking his head. "No… no… Dad… He said… He said…"  
  
Holden pressed Luke back into the bed as the younger Snyder struggled to sit up. "Luke, you need to calm down, okay?"  
  
Holden could tell Luke was utterly panicked about something.  
  
"Dad… Leo?"  
  
Then Holden understood and mentally kicked himself for not thinking about that sooner. "Leo's fine."   
  
But Luke was too frantic to listen and continued his efforts to sit up.  
  
"Luke, listen! Listen!" Holden was near to shaking Luke. "Leo's fine! He's okay!"  
  
Luke stilled, a hand curled around each of his father's arms. He was looking at Holden like he couldn't believe what had just come out his father's mouth.  
  
Holden smiled and patted Luke's shoulder. "That's right… Leo's doing just fine, Son."  
  
"He's…"  
  
"He followed his heart and found his way home. He's at the farm with your mother, Grandma and the girls. He and Ethan have become firm buddies. Leo's _just_ fine…"  
  
Luke's countenance cracked from the release of his self-imposed pressure. The news almost too wonderful to be believed.  
  
"That's," Holden continued with a smirk, "…only if he's not exploded from all the water your little sister, Eva, keeps hydrating him with. Poor boy's probably had to drink his body weight in the stuff by now! She's pretty persistent that little one!"  
  
"What?" The very weak and confused Luke was flabbergasted.  
  
"Nurse Eva's eight and she's been fussing over Leo just like Grandma Emma." Holden smiled down at Luke. "He's a great kid... You boys have done well raising him."  
  
It was all too much to take in. Luke broke down, nodding his agreement and reaching out for his father.  
  
Holden held him through the wrecked sobs, rocking him gently while speaking continually about his siblings and Oakdale; the words floating in the air like a soft blanket. Holden assured his son that things were going to work out even though Holden wasn't sure how.  
  
"Why were you so afraid for Leo, Luke?" Holden later asked, as he helped Luke drink a sip of water from a straw. "Why did you want to die?"  
  
Luke shook his head and explained how he was lied to about Leo's condition; and how he was told Leo would be hurt, if he didn't end his own life.  
  
"I didn't have a choice," Luke explained. After Holden gravely nodded Luke asked, "Has there been any news on Noah?"  
  
"None. I'm sorry."  
  
Luke wetly nodded and then made the assertion Holden could tell he'd wanted to say for a long time. "We didn't do it, Dad."  
  
Holden bit back the tears. "I know that, Son. We all know it. We always did."


	40. Chapter 40

**St Louis, Missouri, Fairfield Inn, 2019**  
  
After telling Holden Snyder that his son was indeed alive and where to find him, the federal agent lay out in his cotton sleep shorts atop the covers; even though he knew sleep was unlikely to come.  
  
 _Am I really considering this?_  
  
From the moment they discovered Snyder's identity in Arlington, he'd never once deliberated the possibility that the two young men might be innocent. Why would he, when they were already convicted in a court of law?  
  
But that was exactly what Adrian found himself doing now.  
  
Without going back to the files on his computer, he tried to put the evidence together in his mind. He cataloged the weapons, the fingerprints, the motive; along with Snyder and Mayer being found at the scene of the murder.  
  
On the surface, there was more than enough evidence to conclude they were guilty.  
  
 _But are they?_  
  
Maybe this confusion he felt was all part of a ploy by Mayer. Maybe Mayer hoped to build a case of reasonable doubt in the minds of a future jury. Was it possible this entire innocent act was all an elaborately concocted plan? Snyder and Mayer had certainly proven themselves smart enough after all.  
  
Could they possibly have hurt the kid on purpose in an effort to garner a few sympathy votes? As that thought crossed his mind, Adrian was quick to dismiss it. He'd seen the very real pain on both faces of the men. That wasn't the kind of heartache a person could fake.  
  
Besides, this theory wouldn't explain Snyder's attempted suicide nor Mayer's continual push to prove their innocence, despite thinking Snyder was dead.  
  
No matter how he looked at it, Adrian couldn't shake that nagging doubt.  
  
Once the men collected their son from the school they were home free. They had everything they needed to disappear again.  
  
So why didn't they? Why had they come out in the open if not to fight for justice? Why else would they take such a massive risk?  
  
Frustrated, he hurtled from the bed; grabbed his key card; and padded down the hall, stopping to knock loudly on the door to room 180.  
  
Archie Blithe appeared like a thunder cloud in blue sleep shorts and a white vest top; rubbing his eyes. "God dammit, Adrian! Do you have any idea what time it is?"  
  
"Mayer paid me a visit!"  
  
That instantly woke Archie up. "He what?"  
  
"Can I come in?" Adrian asked. "I need to run a few things by you; and I kinda don't want to discuss them out here in the hall."  
  
Archie stepped back to allow Adrian entry to his darkened room. As he closed the door he flipped the switch and squinted into the bright light.  
  
"Hang on?" Archie realized. "If Mayer showed up in your hotel room, what are you doing here? Why isn't the place crawling with agents looking for him?"  
  
Adrian rubbed his hands through his hair. "He's long gone. And anyway… I'm no longer so sure it's _him_ we should be chasing!"  
  
Over the next hour, Adrian laid it all out for the police chief. He repeated what Snyder told him in the interrogation room; and detailed Mayer's visit.  
  
Blithe had already voiced some of his own doubts, so it didn't take him long to fall in line with Adrian's train of thought. "So what?" Blithe asked. "Are we thinking the bureau set these two kids up to take the fall as a cover up of some sort?"  
  
Adrian nodded.  
  
Archie shook his head. "I need a stiff drink!"  
  
"I know what you mean… But think about it! If the FBI tells you they're guilty because of A, B, and C; and hands you the evidence to prove it, you believe them, right? I mean who's going to turn around and question the FBI? Nobody would!"  
  
"Yip," Archie agreed. "You basically have a scenario where the FBI tells the courts exactly the story it wants the jury to believe. And it has the power to lay out all the evidence to support their contention that Snyder and Mayer killed Mayer's father and a room full of people. Nobody would check whether that evidence was well grounded, simply because the FBI provided it. The bureau is the country's top lead domestic law enforcement agency, right?"  
  
Adrian nodded, "Exactly!"  
  
Archie took a seat on the edge of his rumpled bed. "Okay… let's say you're right… Do you have any idea who at the FBI could have orchestrated this? I mean, it's not just like dropping a gun at a crime scene. It has to be somebody pretty high up in the bureau."  
  
Adrian spent a few minutes pacing the room, trying to order his thoughts. "I have a theory," he said. "Can I use your cell?"  
  
Blithe handed it to him. "Who you gonna call?"  
  
Without replying, Adrian dialed a number and waited. Within a few minutes he heard the high-pitched voice of Deputy Supervisor Gordon Jones.  
  
"Hey Gordie, it's Agent Williams here."  
  
The agent made it a personal policy to get to know all the major players on the service floors at Hoover. They were a wealth of knowledge and willing to do just about anything for you, provided you put in a good word for them at promotion time.  
  
"Hey, how are you?" Gordon responded. "What can I do you for?"  
  
"What do you know about the Snyder apprehension in St Louis?"  
  
Adrian heard some nervous shuffling and that got him excited. He was definitely onto something.  
  
"Um… I don't know if I'm allowed to discuss that," Jones nervously replied.  
  
"It's okay, Gordie. You won't get in any trouble. You know full well this is my case…"  
  
"Yes… it's just… the flag on the files said private/confidential and your name isn't on the approved list… I'm not sure…  
  
 _Files?_  
  
"Look, I wouldn't ask you to bend the rules unless it was really important. But I need your help here. Just tell me what's in the files; and I'll be sure to tell your supervisor how helpful you have been in solving this high profile case."  
  
As per usual, those seemed to be the magic words. As Jones spilled what he knew, Adrian's mind raced.  
  
 _Marsh! Why didn't I see it?_  
  
Marsh was the one who set the trace that led the feds to Luke Snyder. He traced the phone of a Dr. Christopher Hughes, after the good doctor accessed files connected to Colonel Mayer and the Army research being done in the lab.  
  
Adrian reasoned Dr. Hughes must have been with Snyder and Mayer at the motel, when the raid went down. Somehow, in the confusion, Mayer and Hughes escaped while Snyder ended up in custody.  
  
As far as Adrian was concerned, there was only one reason Marsh would have put a flag on archived files from Branson and Oakdale!  
  
 _He knew! Marsh knew, or at least suspected, they'd come back one day! He knew there was a chance they'd try to prove their innocence! And he was ready for them!_  
  
His face flushed as he put more of the puzzle pieces together. He didn't want to believe this. This kind of thing could blow up in his face. If he was wrong he could certainly kiss his career goodbye!  
  
But Adrian was a man of honor. He couldn't let it go. The very thought of the law being twisted and used in this manner set anger boiling inside of him.  
  
"Say that again?" Archie asked with disbelief as soon as Adrian filled him in.  
  
"You heard right!" Adrian told him. "FBI Deputy Director Stanley Marsh is behind this!"  
  
Archie whistled, "Jesus, Adrian! You better be right before you even _think_ of going down this road."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure! I'd bet my badge on it!" The more certain Adrian became of Snyder and Mayer's innocence, the worse he felt for allowing Mayer to leave without telling him Snyder was alive. He worried what Mayer's next move might be. "So..." Adrian continued, plopping down into a nearby armchair. "...let's assume everything going on in Washington right now, with the weapons allegations surrounding Senator Marsden, are all somehow connected to a discovery made by Colonel Winston Mayer in 2007. Let's assume the colonel confronts Marsden and Marsden sees his whole world crumbling…"  
  
Archie nodded. "…all Marsden has to do is find the right person in the FBI to get rid of the colonel and anybody related to him; just in case the colonel might have confided in one of them…"  
  
"…and fabricate a story to cover it all!" Adrian finished. "I did a search while I was on the phone with Snyder's father. There are further reports of similar bio-weapons being used all over the Middle East. Iran, Iraq, Libya, Syria… You name it!"  
  
"And Marsden could have a hand in all of it!" Archie gulped. "Jesus! This thing is massive!"  
  
It was just like the different colors of paint found on an artist's pallet. When taken individually, no one incident was enough to draw a conclusion that any of Adrian's hypotheses were true. Yet weave the colors together and you've got yourself an entire picture.  
  
Marsh and Marsden were the common denominators in all of it. They conspired to create the canvas for such a deadly work of art.  
  
"The main problem when you go back and look through the original case files is clear as day if you only take a moment to see it." Adrian told Archie.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"The investigation was led by one of the masterminds responsible for the crime. The agents on duty weren't trying or weren't encouraged to dig deep. They only asked the questions that would help solidify the case. Not one of them ever asked whether it was possible Snyder and Mayer were innocent."  
  
"Christ!" Archie stood up and headed for the window, just to have something to do. "We are seriously up to our eyeballs in shit with this one! But… I'm with you. I'll stand by you as far as I can."  
  
Adrian smiled. "I knew there was a reason I brought you along!"  
  
"So… It wasn't just because of my irresistible charm?"  
  
Adrian laughed. "Sorry to disappoint but one, you're too old for me Grandpa; and two, I don't swing that way!"  
  
They chuckled together for a moment, if simply to release some of the tension.  
  
"We still need to find the kid and bring in Mayer," Archie surmised. "Their lives are obviously in danger if all this is true."  
  
Adrian nodded. "We'll have to think about how we do that."  
  
"And then?"  
  
"We pay my boss a visit, of course…"


	41. Chapter 41

**Oakdale, Illinois, Snyder Farm, 2019**  
  
The farmhouse was dark and silent and the floorboards creaked, as Leo tiptoed his way down the main staircase leading to the parlor.  
  
He hoped he wouldn't disturb anybody. But he found himself wide awake and had become bored just lying in bed with his thoughts.  
  
He was desperate for news on his pop. He hated the thought of Luke being locked up in a prison cell, caged like he was some violent animal rather than the gentle father Leo knew.  
  
But even more, for reasons he couldn't quite formulate yet, he was afraid for his dad.  
  
As he reached the sitting room and the family television set, he was brought up short. A small table lamp was on and Luke's oldest sister, Faith, lay in the arms of her young husband, Ian. Both were fast asleep on the sofa.  
  
Of all the Snyder siblings, Faith was the one most like Luke in looks. Seeing her up close like this caused Leo's heart to ache.  
  
Would he ever see his parents again? And what was going to happen to him, when the authorities found out he was hiding out at the farm?  
  
Quietly and carefully he wrestled the remote out of Ian's hand and pressed the mute button as soon as the TV turned on. Faith shifted in her sleep at the short burst of sound.  
  
Leo breathed a sigh of relief and then started to channel surf, looking for a 24-hour news channel. He found it funny how in the past, he was always looking for something to watch that wasn't the news or some boring documentary. Now he found himself desperate for CNN.  
  
But when he found it, he really wished he hadn't.  
  
There was no sound as the anchorman reported on a football game. But running along the bottom of the screen was a series of news headlines. One of these read, "Snyder found hung in holding cell."  
  
Leo took a step back; knocking a small side table and sending the lamp tumbling to the floor with a loud crash.  
  
Faith shot up to sitting; hand on her heart.  
  
"What the...!" Ian exclaimed.  
  
"Oh my, God!" Faith breathed, eyes connecting with those of Leo. "God, you scared me! What are you doing up so late, ha?"  
  
Her eyes were kind. They were his pop's eyes and it was all too much for Leo. "P…P…Pop?" he stuttered, stunned. "Pop?"  
  
All at once Faith took in Leo and the silent TV broadcast and she slowly cupped one hand over her mouth.  
  
At the look of horror on her face, Leo felt a sharp pain in his heart like a thousand claws digging in. He gasped as grief quickly flooded his body. Suddenly, he understood with dreadful clarity the strange adult behavior in the house.  
  
"Oh Leo…" Faith shook her head. She quickly stood and approached him; grasping his face in her palms. "I'm so sorry…"  
  
"Not my pop! Please! Please…"  
  
"No, Leo…! Listen to me… We thought it was true but it's not…"  
  
Leo shook his head at her in confusion.  
  
"He's not dead, Leo! My dad's with him as we speak. Do you hear what I'm saying?" Her eyes narrowed and held Leo's with so much fortitude. "He's alive, Leo. I'm so sorry! We wanted to tell you before you saw the news."  
  
"He's alive?" Leo softly asked, just to be sure.  
  
Faith smiled and nodded. "Yes… yes he is!"  
  
Leo covered his face in his hands and Faith pulled the small boy in; holding him through his wracked relief.  
  
"It's going to be okay," she told him, looking back into the eyes of her worried husband. "Everything's going to be okay."  
  
…  
  
Eva Snyder, wild curls tied back with a pink ribbon; paid little heed to the dirty tide-mark her wading in the pond had made on the hem of her yellow summer dress. She dropped to her knees in the dew-damp grass to better examine the brightly-colored dragonfly she'd found settled on a leaf.  
  
The insect was covered in tiny iridescent green-blue scales that glimmered like the gems she'd seen in some of Grandma Lucinda's jewelry.  
  
"Eva! Eeee-vaaa!"  
  
She ignored the call, not even turning her head toward it. One of the best things about being on the farm, as opposed to inside the house, were the seemingly endless places to hide.  
  
She was so close to the dragonfly now, she was sure it would allow her to touch it. Utterly fascinated with her find, she moved her little finger closer... closer-  
  
"Eva!" Her brother bellowed right in her ear and she jumped with fright, falling over sideways. The dragonfly spread its wings and quickly took off, disappearing over the water.  
  
"Ethan! You scared it away!"  
  
"Why didn't you answer when I called you? I know you heard me!" At 13, Ethan towered over his little sister.  
  
She turned her back to him. "I was busy."  
  
"You still have to answer when somebody calls you," he chastised with the superiority of the older child.  
  
"That rule is only for grownups, dumbass!" she snapped with irritation. Eva looked back at her bother just in time to catch him wordlessly mimicking her and she huffed. "What do you want, anyway?  
  
"Well..." Ethan replied, "...since you asked… I thought Nurse Eva might like to know her patient is awake."  
  
Eva jumped to her feet and quickly snatched up her muddy sandals lying under a nearby bush.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me from the start?" she asked with annoyance.  
  
Her brother looked her up and down; whistling. "God, you're filthy! Mom's gonna go nuts!"  
  
"Will not."  
  
"Will too."  
  
"Will not!"  
  
"Eva! Ethan! Breakfast!" Grandma Emma's clear voice called from the back of the farmhouse; and the two children hurried up the garden path.  
  
"Ethan?" Eva asked. In one muddy hand she dangled her sandals, while with the other she dragged a fallen tree branch behind her, leaves scraping patterns in the dry sand. "Do you think Leo will end up staying with us?"  
  
"Not sure," Ethan replied. "Why?"  
  
Eva shrugged, stopping for a moment. "It's just… I heard Mommy and Gran talking and they said Leo might get taken away…"  
  
She carefully watched her brother. Ethan wasn't good at hiding emotions, while she was usually pretty good at reading whether he knew more than he let on.  
  
"I don't know, E. I hope not."  
  
"Me too," she replied.  
  
They shared a rare moment of peace, where she allowed him to fondly ruffle her curls.  
  
"He's pretty cool, isn't he?" Ethan smiled as they continued up the bank.  
  
"Yeah… Do you think Luke and Noah will come back home? I'd really like to meet them."  
  
Again her brother shrugged. "Luke's in jail, Eva, and… they don't know where Noah is. I guess… I guess it's not looking likely now."  
  
She sniffed, feeling the full weight of what that would mean on her tubby little shoulders. "It's not fair," she moaned. "I never even got to meet my big brother."  
  
"No… I get it…" Ethan sympathized. "But it's pretty amazing we got to meet Leo, right?"  
  
As he spoke, they spotted their new nephew making his way down the back garden to meet them.  
  
Eva dropped the tree branch and ran; beating Ethan to the boy. "Let me feel your forehead," she demanded, before even greeting him.  
  
Leo fondly smiled at her. But she noticed his eyes were really red. Eva knew he'd been crying again. She wished she was really a nurse and could honestly make him feel better. But for now, she considered fussing over him would make him feel more welcome.  
  
"Did you drink your medicine today?" she asked.  
  
"Absolutely," Leo assured her, bending low, so she could cup his forehead. He turned as Ethan approached and shyly greeted the other boy. "Hi."  
  
"Hey," Ethan grinned. "Hungry?"  
  
"Starving!" Leo nodded. He seemed to be trying to hide a smile, as he observed Eva's muddy state. "Where have you guys been?"  
  
"Down at the pond," Eva told him. "The dragonflies are hatching! They've beautiful!"  
  
Ethan placed a brotherly arm over Leo's shoulders, as they walked the rest of the way up the hill. "And we were just saying how happy we are that you're here."  
  
"Yeah!" Eva confirmed, taking Leo's hand in her own.  
  
Leo sadly smiled, biting his lower lip. "I'm happy too, guys."  
  
Eva felt warm inside. She knew that Leo was being, at least partly, truthful.


	42. Chapter 42

**St Louis, Missouri, Saint Louise University Hospital, 2019**  
  
As Luke slowly awoke through another groggy haze, he remembered where he was and reached his hand out. "Dad?"  
  
"I asked him to slip out for a bit." The voice brought Luke instantly back to consciousness.  
  
Agent Williams, looking tired with dehydrated skin stretched across a furrowed brow, leaned up against the far wall. He was sun burned too, Luke noticed; perhaps from spending hours outside while working to hunt them down.  
  
"Come to finish the job?" Luke resentfully asked with darkened eyes. He wished his voice wasn't still so raspy. It made him sound weaker than he would have liked. "I did what you people asked, okay? It's not my fault the guards found me…"  
  
"Finish the job…?" Agent Williams repeated. "I'm not sure what you mean."  
  
Luke wanted to scream out his rage that they'd lied about Leo. Various threats and furious expletives crossed his mind, but he couldn't risk letting on he knew where Leo was. Besides, he knew such words would just be wasted on Williams.  
  
The agent's eyes met Luke's. "Are you talking about the man who visited your cell?"  
  
"So you _do_ know?"  
  
Williams nodded. "I checked the prison surveillance cameras on a hunch. We have a picture, so there's a chance we'll be able to identify him."  
  
Luke smirked. "Yeah right! He said his name is Agent Lin. I doubt that's true. He had a very unFBI-like tattoo of a snake down his left arm and I recognized him from the day of the murders. Marsden called him Garrett. But if your capture history's anything to go on, then the likelihood is you won't find him."  
  
Luke was surprised when Williams didn't argue the point. With a beaten look, he simply sagged onto the stool by Luke's bed. "You know where Leo is… don't you?"  
  
Luke turned his head to look the other way.  
  
"It's okay," the agent continued with a slight smile. "You don't have to tell me. I'm just glad he's safe, that's all…"  
  
Luke regarded Williams carefully before stating, "You lied to me."  
  
Williams nodded.  
  
"When I asked you about Leo's health you told me he was fine. But you couldn't have known that, Agent Williams, now could you? Since Leo had already snuck out of the hospital by then!"  
  
"So you _do_ know where he is."  
  
Luke internally cursed his runaway mouth and hugged his arms into himself.  
  
 _Shit!_  
  
Agent Williams held up both his arms in a motion of surrender. "Don't look so worried, Luke. Like I said… I'm glad he's safe."  
  
Luke couldn't help asking. It was his naturally curious nature. "How did you know?"   
  
Again the agent smiled. "The first words out of your mouth, back in that interrogation room, were always to ask about your son, Luke. I suspect if you were still worried for him, this next little meeting of ours wouldn't have gone much different. As it is… you didn't ask. So you see how I can make my assumption…"  
  
Luke did see, and he shuddered at how easy it was to unwittingly give away vital information simply by the things not said.  
  
"You know, Luke?" The agent shifted on the stool like he was getting comfortable. "Ever since I was a little kid I was fascinated by the law. I knew I wanted to be a federal agent from the age of 13. I gave up everything for the job. I believed in everything the bureau stood for - Fidelity… Bravery… Integrity."  
  
"You're breaking my heart," Luke scathingly replied.  
  
Ignoring him, Williams continued. "That is… I believed it until your husband paid me a visit last night."  
  
Luke blinked; unsure he'd heard right. Distrust built quickly and he glared at Williams.  
  
 _Does he really think I'm gonna fall for that?"_  
  
"He told me the same story you did," Williams continued.  
  
"If that's true, then where's Noah now?" Luke asked, trying to appear impassive while his mind raced.  
  
Adrian smiled, rubbing the back of his head. "Like you said… my capture history's not the best…"  
  
"You must think I'm really fucking stupid!" Luke spat. "Noah would never do something so risky. He's not crazy!"  
  
Adrian nodded. "Not _your_ Noah, no… but… _soldier_ Noah is a whole other kettle of fish… As I think you've always suspected he might be."  
  
Luke's heart thudded. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I am sorry, Luke, believe me," Williams said, seemingly sincere. "I made a mistake and I admit that. After you were found in your cell, I released news to the press that you died."  
  
The words hit Luke hard. "You what?"  
  
"I think..." Williams continued, "...that in his current state of mind, Noah will pretty much risk anything."  
  
 _Oh no… Noah…_  
  
"You son of a bitch!" Luke breathlessly seethed. "How could you do this? Oh my God!" Luke threw his head back into the pillow, not even flinching from the pain in his neck. "He's gonna to get himself killed because of you!"  
  
Again Williams nodded apologetically. "That's why I need your help, Luke. This situation is very desperate; and right now Noah is out there thinking his life's pretty much done. I imagine the only thing keeping him going is your son… But… there's no telling what he'll do to achieve his goal..."  
  
Suddenly, when he realized where Williams was headed, Luke cynically laughed and burned holes in Agent Williams with his glare. "As much as I'd like to believe this quick turnaround of yours Agent Williams, I think you're lying! Just like the FBI lied about the events in Oakdale and just like Agent Lin lied about Leo so I'd hurt myself!  
  
"I promise you, Luke. This is no trick. I believe you and Noah and I think I know how to help. But my first priority is making sure you and your family are safe."  
  
Luke folded his arms and shook his head. It would be so easy to believe Williams. A part of him hoped to God the agent was on the level. But experience had already taught him to tread carefully where the bureau was concerned. Luke wasn't about to give away anything that could come back to bite him later on.  
  
 _God, but Noah must be going crazy!_  
  
"I understand your anger." Williams said, taking Luke's silence as his answer. "But just think about it, okay? You're the only one who can get Noah to come in voluntarily."  
  
"Are you going to tell the press the truth?"  
  
Williams thought for a moment and then shook his head. "I'd like to… for Noah's sake. But, at the same time… it's perhaps best for _your_ safety, those pulling the strings still believe you're dead."  
  
"I don't give a fuck about me, Agent Williams! I think I proved that when I hung myself! If what you say is true… and you really believe us then… please… help him!"  
  
"I have to do what I think is right for both of you. If you agree to help me bring Noah in then, of course, the press will be alerted so you can be interviewed on camera. But until then I'm going to keep you safe, whether you want me to or not."  
  
Luke swallowed back the tears. "I want to see my Dad."  
  
"Luke, please… try to consider…"  
  
"What?" Luke snapped. "Trusting you? I can't do that Agent Williams! I hope you mean what you're saying… and if you do then I hope to God you figure all this out. But if you think I'm going to let you play me so you can get your hands on my husband, then you don't know me very well at all!"  
  
It looked as though Agent Williams might argue again but then he stopped.  
  
"I'd like to see my father now, please," Luke finished.  
  
Agent Williams sighed, nodding at Luke before leaving the room.  
  
It wasn't long before Holden entered; a look on his face so grave, Luke suddenly realized what must have happened to the whole family.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Dad," Luke told him. "You thought I was dead?"  
  
Holden nodded. "For a moment. Yes… we did."  
  
Luke sat up as a thought hit him. "And Leo? Does he think-"  
  
"No…" Holden quickly assured him. "We didn't tell the younger kids. We wanted to give Noah some time to clear your names first."  
  
Luke sighed in relief. "Thank god."  
  
Holden took a seat beside his son. "But, Luke… Noah…"  
  
"I know…" Luke whispered; breath shuddering. "Shit, Dad! I keep thinking how I'd feel if I thought Noah was dead… and…" Luke thought for a moment and looked into his father's eyes. "Noah scares me, Dad."  
  
Holden's eyes widened in surprise. "He's violent?"  
  
"Oh no! No!" Luke quickly clarified. "Nothing like _that!_ It's just… if things were swapped and I was the one thinking Noah was dead, I'd cry and scream and suffer through. I'm not sure I'd make it, but that would be my reaction. Do you understand what I mean?"  
  
Holden nodded, not wanting to speak and break Luke's train of thought.  
  
"But… Noah… Noah compartmentalizes things, Dad. When emotion gets too much for him, he has this thing he does… like…"  
  
"What are you most afraid of, Luke?"  
  
A small hurt sound escaped Luke's throat. "I'm worried he'll do something he can't come back from… I'm worried that… even if Noah survives this… I'll still lose him."  
  
Holden sympathetically rubbed Luke's bicep. "So… you know him better than anybody. What's his next move?"  
  
As Luke considered this his eyes flew wide open and his heart sank. "He'll head for the source!" Luke reached over to grab Holden's shoulders. "Dad! He'll go after Senator Marsden!"


	43. Chapter 43

**Oakdale, Illinois, Hughes Residence, 2019**  
  
Katie Hughes loved their big house on the hill. Chris surprised her with it the day they returned from their honeymoon.  
  
After five years of marriage, the house and the three acres on which it rested, had developed that comfortable homely feel she'd always imagined as a little girl, dreaming of married life.  
  
Of course, she'd come to believe _that_ life would be with Brad Snyder; her soul mate even in death. She'd never have imagined she'd find her happiness after six marriages. But that was life.  
  
Chris was an amazing husband. She couldn't have asked for a better person to fill the father-shaped hole in her son's life. She also had this comforting feeling that Brad approved and was happy for her. That made moving on a whole lot easier.  
  
The only time Katie hated their big house on the hill were times like these, when she was alone with Jacob and Chris was out of town.  
  
He'd done this before.  
  
At the start of their marriage, he'd disappear for days without any real explanation as to where he was or who he was meeting.  
  
For a while, it caused a huge strain on their relationship, even though Katie never once believed it was due to an affair. Whatever it was that had Chris leave her for long periods of time; she knew it wasn't another woman.  
  
Something troubled Chris deeply; giving him nightmares. And it was the one part of himself, Chris refused to share with her.  
  
She sighed as she read through the script for that afternoon's taping of Oakdale Now on WOAK. She was doing a piece on Luke's suicide; a story on which she would definitely struggle to remain objective. Occasionally she would stop to record notes to herself on the mini Dictaphone she always carried on her.  
  
She glanced up at the clock and realized with surprise that she'd worked through breakfast and not heard one peep from Jacob. She wondered what new game had him so busy he'd forgotten about food.  
  
"Jacob, Honey?" she called as she made her way to the foot of the stairs, turning off the Dictaphone and slipping the tiny device into the pocket of her black trousers. "Time to get ready for school! Come grab some breakfast quick."  
  
The house remained eerily quiet and she frowned. In her experience, a quite child was never a good sign. The last time her son was this quiet, she caught him trying to clean ink drawings off his bedroom wall.  
  
"Jacob?" As she called again, a shadow fell over her from behind. She spun around in shock to find a man standing in her entrance hall. As the bright morning sunlight highlighted the dust particles in the air, she realized he held a limp doll in his arms.  
  
The doll looked just like Jacob.  
  
Katie screamed.  
  
…  
  
"Dammit! Where is she?" Chris asked after another attempt to get through to his wife on the cell phone Damian gave them to use.  
  
He knew it was risky trying to contact Katie. There was a strong possibility the feds had a trace on her cell, hoping he'd call. But he wanted to prepare her for their arrival. He didn't think it would be fair to just show up at the house with a wanted fugitive.  
  
"Maybe she's already left for the day?" Noah asked from behind the wheel, his attention on the road ahead.  
  
Chris shook his head. "No. She has a routine, you know? You have to with a kid."  
  
"Well..." Noah tried, "...maybe she's getting him ready for school."  
  
Chris looked out of the car window at the farmland flashing past. "Yeah. Maybe."  
  
After Noah returned from his crazy visit with Agent Williams, it had taken Chris hours to talk Noah down, convincing the man to go back to Oakdale with him. Noah wanted to run off half-cocked to confront Marsden in Washington. But Chris knew they needed more hard evidence before they even thought of going public.  
  
He also had this strong sense that keeping Noah away from the vicinity of Senator Marsden would be wise. It wasn't that he cared for the senator's well being, quite the opposite. What he really worried about was this feeling in his gut that Noah would kill the senator without hesitation.  
  
To be honest, Noah was scaring him. The brunette seemed almost… too calm.  
  
Chris was certain Noah hadn't even scratched the surface of dealing with Luke's death. It was like the man wiped that knowledge clean from his mind. Noah was a soldier on a mission now; emotion didn't play a part in that.  
  
But he also knew it was taking a huge effort on Noah's part to keep it up. Every now and again, Chris would catch a crack in Noah's features; a bob of his prominent Adam's apple; a crease forming in his brow, a sound escaping his lips as if Noah was silently struggling to hold back a scream.  
  
It was unnerving to say the least.  
  
…  
  
"Jacob!" Katie didn't even think. She flew forward and snatched her son from the man's arms; barley registering the snake tattoo around the man's wrist.  
  
Jacob flopped in her arms; heavy like he was asleep.  
  
 _Please God, be asleep!_  
  
The man followed her as she passed by him and moved to lay her son gently on a sofa in the sitting room.  
  
"Jacob? Wake up." She bent her ear to his lips, praying for a sound that would confirm he lived; patting his cheek hopefully.  
  
"Your son is fine."   
  
The voice startled her. In her frantic state she'd even forgotten he was there. "What happened to him?"  
  
When she looked up and for the first time clearly saw the cold look in the man's grey eyes, she screamed a second time.  
  
"Now, now…" the man chastised. "…we don't want to be making so much noise… now do we?"  
  
"Who are you?" Katie breathed. She stood guarding her prone son with shaky legs.  
  
"You know..." the man replied with an air of amusement, "...people always ask that; and I wonder why? I mean… does it really matter? If you must name me… you can call me Garrett."  
  
Terrified, Katie started crying.  
  
"Now..." Garrett continued, "...your hubby has been a very naughty boy; and we can't let him get away with that. He must be made to understand that there are consequences for his actions. It's time to find out whether you're any better at following orders than he is."  
  
…  
  
"There!" Chris yelled. "That's my house! The one with the yellow Mini parked out front."  
  
Noah pulled up the driveway behind the Mini; all the time scanning the surroundings for danger. As he did, he noticed a plumber's van parked against the curb.  
  
"You got any water problems?" he asked Chris.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You expecting a plumber?"  
  
Chris whipped his head around and swore. "They've come for my family, haven't they?"  
  
Noah's eyes closed for a moment, breathing back another bolt of pain. They were becoming more frequent. "I hope not."  
  
He grabbed the gun he'd stolen from Agent Williams off the dash; and they both rushed from the car, bursting through the front door of the house.  
  
They were just in time to watch Katie jump from the top floor banister.  
  
As she did, she seemed to notice Chris and the chance of rescue. She snatched at the wooden banister mid-flight; hanging from her arms just in time to prevent the rope from pulling taught around her neck.  
  
"Katie!" a horrified Chris screamed; already stumbling up the staircase to rescue his wife.  
  
Garrett stood in the entrance hall. Noah instantly recognized the murderer. For a split second, they stared at each other. Then with a startling speed, Garrett made a move toward Chris.  
  
Anger lit a fire under Noah's feet and he launched himself through the air, propelling Garrett full force into the opposite wall. The gun flew from Noah's grasp and slid away across the hardwood floor.  
  
Garrett was quick and delivered a strike that hit Noah reeling backward. As Noah stumbled, Garrett swept Noah's legs out from under him, sending Noah on his back with a solid thud.  
  
One moment Noah felt winded and saw stars; the next he was in an arm lock with the man.  
  
They were both just as strong as each other; and neither man could get a punch in to end the floor rolling. Each man grunted and struggled for dominance over the other.  
  
Finally, they found themselves back on their feet, encircling like two boxers in a ring. Noah saw his chance and delivered two savage punches to Garrett's face. He kicked out and sent Marsden's henchman flying into the sitting room.  
  
Unfortunately, Jacob had chosen that moment to wake up and search for his mother. Garrett's huge girth sent the child soaring backward. Jacob slid across the floor and landed with his back against the sofa.  
  
"Mommy!" the young boy screamed in fear; and struggled when Garrett grabbed him in a neck lock.  
  
From nowhere, a gun went off and Garrett fell back into the wall. But the gunshot to his shoulder did nothing to lesson Garrett's grip on Jacob.  
  
Noah looked back and saw Katie holding out the smoking gun she'd retrieved from the floor.  
  
"I was married to a cop! So I know how to aim!" Katie screeched at Garrett. "You drop my son now, you bastard!"  
  
Noah watched her finger depress the trigger. "Katie, no!" he yelled, holding out his hand. "Please… we need him alive…"  
  
For the first time, Katie seemed to register who he was. "Noah?" she asked in amazement.  
  
Noah nodded. "He has information on the murders. Please Katie. He might be my only hope."  
  
"I'm _so, so_ sorry about Luke, Noah," she stated. "You _know_ that I am! But he has my _son!_ "  
  
Regardless, they paused for too long. Garrett used the time to withdraw a knife from inside his boot. He held the blade to young Jacob's throat. "I can kill him before you pull the trigger," he warned the angry mother. "Put the gun down."  
  
"Katie!" Chris gasped, moving behind his wife. "Put the gun down, Sweetheart. He's serious."  
  
Katie looked back at her husband and lowered the gun. "What's going on?" she wailed. "Oh, God… What's happening?"  
  
They watched Garrett shuffle backward and they all followed him through the kitchen. With the terrified child dangling against his chest, Garrett felt behind him to open the door leading to the back yard; and disappeared through it.  
  
"Jacob!" Chris and Katie cried.


	44. Chapter 44

**Washington, DC, Marsh Residence, 2019**  
  
Something woke Stanley Marsh up that morning.  
  
He sat up in his bed, trying to listen beyond the morning birdcalls outside his open window. Everything seemed as normal, except he couldn't shake this odd wariness.  
  
Standing in his boxers, he walked over to the window. It was still relatively early; the front garden and the street outside were quiet. He stood and intently listened again.  
  
He'd long ago come to trust this sixth sense he had for danger. His intuition had kept him alive as a federal officer over the years. He trusted it more than he trusted most of the people in his life.  
  
Just as he was turning from the window, he spotted the blue roof of a strange car hidden behind his neighbor's thick hedge.  
  
A floorboard creaked.  
  
Stanley's reaction was instant. He dashed behind the bedroom door as it burst open.  
  
A man stormed into the bedroom brandishing a gun. Feathers flew as three bullets past through the mattress of Stanley's king-sized bed.  
  
The deputy director's trained eyes recognized the silencer on the end of the handgun and his stomach dropped.  
  
 _This is an assassination attempt._  
  
Before the man realized where his target was, Stanley threw a shoulder into the door, slamming the intruder backward.  
  
As the gunman wheeled around to shoot, Stanley dove for his legs. The gun went off again; the bullet whistling past and clipping Stanley's ear, just as he took the gunman's legs out from under him. The intruder fell like a tree to the floor, hitting his head against the wall on the way down.  
  
Quickly, Stanley jumped to his feet and drove a foot into the gunman's groin before taking off down the hall. Half-naked, he flew down the wide staircase of his house. In the back of his mind he already knew Marsden had put out this hit on him.  
  
As he reached the entrance hall, a second gunman appeared through the front door. Unarmed, Stanley had little choice but to flee down a side hall, leading to the home's expansive kitchen and the back door. A few more bullets scattered the plaster from the walls.   
  
He burst out into the morning sunlight, running full tilt toward his garage and the safety of his car. But, as he cornered the side of the house, he smacked hard into a third gunman.  
  
 _Shit! How many are there?_  
  
This man was twice the size of Stanley. His body pressed the deputy director down into the pavement as they both fell; and he collapsed on top of Stanley, his weapon sliding away on impact.  
  
Stanley could hear the voices of the other two gunmen approaching.  
  
Filled with rage, he struggled with the man above him. But to no avail. He was totally pinned.  
  
Once all three murderers had gathered, the giant stood, pulling Stanley up with him.  
  
"Okay…" the first gunman said, looking pissed and pained from the boot to his groin. "Where do you want to do this?"  
  
Fear pumped a regular rhythm through Stanley's body.  
  
 _So this is how it ends?_  
  
"Garage," shooter number two nonchalantly replied.  
  
Stanley began to scream and beg as they dragged him kicking wildly, backward toward his fate. The giant's hand cupped his mouth to muffle his pleas.  
  
Once they were hidden inside Stanley Marsh's double garage, all anybody would have heard; should they have chosen that moment to walk past; was the faint balloon-like pop of a gun equipped with a silencer.  
  
…  
  
 **Oakdale, Illinois, George S. Patton Army Base, 2019**  
  
Hidden deep within the original case files, should anybody bother to look for it, was a reference made regarding Snyder and Mayer's explanation for the gunpower residue on their hands and their fingerprints all over the murder weapons. According to them, they'd been firing weapons in a practise shooting range on the base shortly before the murders.   
  
However, Agent Stanley Marsh, who headed the investigation, asserted that this shooting range didn't exist; accompanying this contention with two statements by resident US Army Captains, corroborating this fact.  
  
After his short meeting with Snyder, Adrian drove with Archie to Oakdale. Both men worked through the sudden turn-a-round in their focus. Yesterday they were chasing two convicted felons and today they were trying to free them.  
  
Although Adrian was now more than sure Snyder and Mayer were innocent as he suspected, the existance of the shooting range was the final puzzle piece he needed to secure for himself.  
  
He was still unable to believe he'd unearthed such a deep level of corruption within an organization he'd always held to such high standard. He was both afraid and angered by this revelation. The FBI were supposed to be the good guys! But if all this was true, then this very same company had put two young men through hell.  
  
He could understand why Snyder was so reluctant to trust him.  
  
Archie's cell rang and the police chief spent some time in deep discussions with the person on the other end of the line.  
  
Eventually, he hung up and looked over at Adrian. "Had a reporter friend of mine look a little deeper into Marsh…"  
  
"And?"  
  
"From 2001 to 2004, your deputy director ran an investigation into suspected illegal arms deals in the Middle East. Seems the FBI was providing resources to him to uncover the operation. But then…"  
  
"Then?"  
  
"…then nothing." Archie flicked his fingers. "The case just dried up and disappeared off the radar."  
  
Archie waited while Adrian signed them in at the main security gate to the Patton Army Base and drove the car in the direction of the Robert Taft Building.  
  
"You still with me?" Archie asked, after Adrian remained silent.  
  
"Hmm?" Adrian blinked, pulling into an empty parking space. "Yip. Just getting the headache of my life!"  
  
"I hear ya!" Archie agreed.  
  
Adrian leaned forward against the Ford's steering wheel. "So basically, if we look at this from a 'they are innocent' point of view; we can surmise that Marsh discovered Marsden's involvement in these arms deals as far back as early 2000. What Marsden's motive is in all of this still remains unclear. But Marsden somehow brings Marsh in on the deal; perhaps for cash or privilege. Again, we don't know enough about that yet."  
  
"Yes," Archie replied as he stepped out the vehicle. "And then all is well until 2008, when Colonel Winston Mayer works this all out and our boys take the fall for Marsh and Marsden's cover up."  
  
Adrian sighed as they approached the large glass entrance to the Taft Building. "Just keeps getting better and better…"  
  
After explaining their presence at reception, they were escorted down a few maze-like corridors to where the mass shooting took place. There wasn't much to see except a busy scientific experiment in operation; but this wasn't what Adrian had come for.  
  
Using what Snyder told him, he tried to retrace their steps to where the supposed shooting range should have been.  
  
Again, just like all the other evidence, the room revealed itself quickly to the person who was actually taking the time to look for it.  
  
One corridor was different from the rest; with one long section of wall where a door should have been. On a hunch, Williams pressed his ear to the wall, walking slowing up the corridor; tapping as he went.  
  
"Bingo!" he yelled and stepped back for Archie to listen to the hollow sound of an entrance.  
  
Turning to the surprised supervisor who was accompanying them, Adrian requested a claw hammer be brought immediately to him.  
  
Two hours later, he'd broken through to the bricked up shooting range; possibly in the exact state it was in shortly after Snyder and Mayer used it in 2008, at the behest of Senator Charles Marsden.  
  
Seven hours and one flight later, they found themselves in an exclusive neighborhood in Northwest Washington, D.C., standing over the body of Deputy Director Stanley Marsh. He lay in a pool of blood from one neat gunshot to the head.


	45. Chapter 45

**Oakdale, Illinois, Hughes Residence, 2019**  
  
Noah rushed out the back of the house just in time to see a flash of movement disappear into the oak forest that backed up to the edge to the Hughes' expansive yard.  
  
He followed Garrett and Jacob. But the bright flashes of sunlight through the canopy of leaves turned the whole forest floor into an intricate maze. Noah felt directionless and eventually came to a standstill, choosing to rely on his hearing rather than his sight.  
  
Footsteps approached and he ducked behind a tree, pouncing as they passed.  
  
"Hey!" It was Chris. "Noah!"  
  
"Dammit, Chris!" Noah exclaimed, pushing the blonde man back. "Get out of here!"  
  
"No way! That's my son, Noah! You'd do the same!"  
  
Noah relented and then gestured for silence. Through the heavy wind rustle of leaves, Noah heard a faint sound like the squeak of a door hinge.  
  
"Do you have any outbuildings?" Noah asked.  
  
"Yes..." Chris confirmed. "A shed. This way…"  
  
Suddenly, the woods gave way to a clearing, in the center of which stood a structure more a barn than a shed. They heard Jacob's crying coming from within.  
  
As Chris made a move forward, Noah shot his arm out to hold him back.  
  
"He's in there!" Chris yelled.  
  
"It's a trap…" Noah quietly replied. "He'd never corner himself like that. He's trying to box us in."  
  
Noah saw the glint of steel too late. Garrett seemed to come out of nowhere, plunging out of the thicket, striking his knife upward. Noah didn't move quickly enough and he felt the knife gash a strip up the side of his ribs.  
  
Oddly it was Chris who cried out. Maddened by Garrett's treatment of his wife and son, Chris punched the murderer in the vicinity of the bleeding gunshot wound.  
  
The pain must have been intense because the blow sent Garrett to the floor. However it wasn't long before the man was back on his feet, laughing at Chris. "You a tough guy all of a sudden, Doc?" He gestured in a 'come hither' motion with his bloodied hands. "C'mon, show me what ya got."  
  
To Noah's great surprise, what Chris had was a black belt in karate. With one quick decisive kick to the genitals, he had Garrett grounded. Once there, Chris delivered a second kick to the man's jaw."  
  
"Stop!" Katie had appeared through the clearing.  
  
"Mommy!" Jacob ran out of the shed and over to her and she swiftly lifted him in her arms.   
  
But her focus was on her husband, currently in the process of releasing years of pent up aggression, by pelting the life out of Garrett.  
  
Before Chris could take another punch at Garrett's face, Noah stumbled over and stopped him with a hand to Chris' chest. "Not here," he firmly said. "Not in front of Jacob."  
  
That snapped Chris out of his stupor and he looked back once to check on the safety of his family. "Take Jacob inside," he told the tearful Katie. "Call the police!"  
  
"What about you?" she cried.  
  
"Just do it!" he commanded and something on his face told her not to argue.  
  
She turned to leave but then quickly swung back; approching them. Shifting Jacob on her hip, she dug into her pocket and handed Chris the Dictaphone. "You might need this," she said with intense eyes and a slight nod; somehow wordlessly understanding the situation.  
  
With a quick kiss on her husband's lips, Katie ran off through the trees with their child in her arms.  
  
Chris waved the little device at Noah. "Now you know why I love that woman!"  
  
Together they hefted the heavy body of a half-unconscious and bloodied Garrett into the shed, securing him with duct tape to the central support column.  
  
Noah forced himself to ignore the sickening feeling in his stomach.  
  
 _Toughen up Mayer! This is for Luke…_  
  
"Okay, Garrett, you're going to spill your guts about Marsden and his little plan to set Luke and me up. I want it all, every sordid little detail. Understood?" Noah waited a beat before asking his first question. "Who killed my father?"  
  
When Garrett didn't answer, merely smirked, Noah hit him hard across the jaw; sending a fine red mist flying through the air.  
  
Noah had to turn away as his stomach turned. He wondered whether he could really do this. But then Garrett started laughing.  
  
That really pissed off Noah.  
  
Adrenaline like nothing he'd ever felt before, pulsed through his veins. He kicked down hard on Garrett's injured shoulder.  
  
The man screamed so loud they heard the birds outside squawk and take flight.  
  
Noah repeated the action. "Tell me!" he demanded.  
  
Again, Garrett laughed, earning him another blow from Noah's boot.  
  
The scream that time was bloodcurdling. Garrett looked like he was about to pass out.   
  
"Jesus, Noah!" Chris exclaimed. "Careful you don't kill him!"  
  
"He won't die." Noah flatly replied, leaning over to stare Garrett down. "He'll beg to die. But I won't let him! Not until he tells his story."  
  
Again, Garrett simply grinned with bloody teeth.  
  
It was becoming clear to Noah that this man was strong enough to sustain the pain. Perhaps this was pointless. But all he had to do was think about his scared little boy out there on his own; and Luke… Luke hanging…  
  
Noah rained blow by painful blow; summoning up a rage he wasn't sure he could control.  
  
"Noah, it's not working!" Chris' voice shook with fear.  
  
When Noah looked up into his friend's face, he realized what he must have looked like; some crazed mad-man. He stepped back; heaving with anger, guilt, loss, and pain so deep it cut worse than the knife wound in his side.  
  
Realizing Chris was right, that beating this man wasn't the answer, Noah's shoulders sagged in defeat. He was about to fail his family again.  
  
As he turned his back on Garrett, his eyes fell on a group of labeled bottles; looking so innocent on their shelf. He stepped closer, examining the contents until he saw one that flamed the idea in his head.  
  
Under the shelf was a cardboard box of old used rags, along with a handy pair of work gloves. He slipped on the gloves, grabbed a rag; and selected a bottle.  
  
"I get it, Garrett," Noah began. "You're prepared to die. You expect to die today. And, if that's the case, you sure as hell aren't going to give up anything that would clear Luke and me."  
  
"What are you doing, Noah?" Chris asked, as Noah uncapped the bottle and the unmistakable smell of sulfuric acid permeated the room.  
  
"This stuff here..." Noah stated, noticing with satisfaction the slight widening of Garrett's swollen eyes. "I've used this stuff before… to strip my walls. But... man... you really have to watch yourself! This stuff burns worse than fire!"  
  
As Noah poured a small amount of acid on the rag, he made sure to drop a few spats on the thigh of Garrett's trousers. The acid made short work of the cotton and pretty soon found the flesh beneath.  
  
Garrett gritted his teeth and groaned. This was a different breed of pain, requiring a much more sophisticated level of tolerance, which Noah hoped Garrett wasn't prepared to withstand.  
  
Noah smiled when he realized he had the upper hand. "As I said. Burns like fire!" He moved his head in closer to Garrett. "It was you, wasn't it? You made Luke hang himself, just like you tried to do to Katie. I'm right, aren't I?"  
  
As he spoke, his hands trembled and Garrett smirked when he saw it.  
  
"The hands?" Noah asked. "You think it's funny? You think it's weak of me? Well, you'd be right. Because I'm no killer. That's why I'm going to let you live."  
  
Garrett shot him a looked that said, "This guy is nuts."  
  
Noah nodded. "Yes! I am crazy! I'm fucking out of my mind! Just crazy enough to make sure the next dose of this stuff goes in your eyes."  
  
Suddenly horrified, Garrett began to struggle wildly against his bonds. His eyes darted between Noah's face and the acid-soaked rag in his gloved hand. Eventually, he looked pleadingly over at Chris.  
  
"Don't look at him!" Noah snapped. "He's not going to help you! You just tried to kill his wife, you fucker! You look at me!"  
  
Bottom lip trembling, sweat trickling down his swollen blood-soaked cheeks; Garrett turned back to Noah.  
  
"This is a fair trade I think," Noah said, bringing the rag closer toward Garrett's face. The man pulled back for it as far as the ropes allowed him to go. "I won't get to see my family again. But you won't get to see again… period!"  
  
With the rag inches from his right eye, Garrett screamed, "It was me!"  
  
Noah's hand froze. He could barely believe it. "Did you get that, Chris?"  
  
"Yes," Chris whispered; the recording light on the Dictaphone blinking in his hand.  
  
"Say it again," Noah instructed, needing to be sure.  
  
"It was me that shot all those people. Me and some other guy."  
  
"Under whose orders?"  
  
"We were hired by Charles Marsden."  
  
…  
  
It took three hours for Garrett to spill everything he knew about Marsden, Marsh, information smuggling and the Oakdale set up. They didn't even have to threaten him again.  
  
Once Garrett was done, Noah staggered from the shed. He stumbled down a slight embankment and hid away under cover of the forest. He found he couldn't breathe and slumped back against the bark of a tree. His stomach rolled in disgust at himself; at what he was becoming.  
  
Placing his face in his hands, he felt the wet heat of tears he couldn't afford to shed. He banged a battered fist back into the tree.  
  
 _Stop it! Fucking stop!_  
  
He pressed his eyelids tightly closed. But his entire body was caught up in an onslaught of shudders quickly escaping in gut wrenching sobs.  
  
His stomach tensed and he threw up beside the tree-trunk; sliding down to the ground when the expulsions finally stopped.  
  
The tears burned his eyes as he cried; angry at himself for allowing them. But it was like a dam wall had burst; and the water couldn't be held back until the dam was completely empty.  
  
He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew Chris had joined him. Noah was grateful when the doctor didn't try to talk to him. Chris simply sat beside him; waiting for Noah to collect himself.  
  
Noah shivered. So much so his teeth chattered together. He pressed his forehead into his palms as he spoke, "I would have done it, Chris..."  
  
Chris squeezed Noah's shoulder. "What?"  
  
Noah turned his head toward the doctor. "I would have put acid in that man's eyes."  
  
Chris said nothing; just sympathetically nodded.  
  
"I heard him in my head... firing instructions..."  
  
"Who?" Chris asked. "Marsden?"  
  
Noah shook his head. "No... My dad..."  
  
Chris began to wonder just what kind of childhood Noah had experienced.   
  
Then softly, hardly a whisper, Noah asked, "Am I a bad person?"  
  
"No." Chris replied without hesitation. "You're not a bad person... I think you're just stronger than most..."  
  
Noah nodded; perhaps half-accepting the statement as truth.   
  
A couple more minutes ticked by as they sat in the cool shade of the forest. No words past between them; yet much was said.   
  
"Um…" Noah eventually began, pulling himself to his feet and wiping his eyes. "Um… You'll have to stay and deal with the cops when they get here."  
  
"What about you?" Chris asked, also rising to his feet.  
  
Noah took a deep breath. "We'll go back up to the house and transfer the recording onto this USB stick." Noah pulled the lanyard out from inside the collar of his shirt. "Then I'm taking what we have to Marsden."  
  
"Noah," Chris gently told him. "By some miracle we've been handed enough evidence to give to the police and the press. You don't need to confront Marsden."  
  
Noah laughed dryly. "Yes… I do… This meeting's long overdue."


	46. Chapter 46

**St Louis, Missouri, Saint Louise University Hospital, 2019**  
  
Luke had recovered enough to where he was able to sit up unaided, as long as his head was held in place by a plastic neck brace.  
  
That morning, he'd started having severe spinal spasms and the doctors wanted to give him something for the pain. But Luke refused. He needed to stay alert. Not only was Noah out there on a suicide mission, but people were trying to kill them both. Luke wasn't about to make it easy for them by allowing himself to be drugged up.  
  
The specialists were hailing Luke's current condition as nothing short of miraculous considering the damage he could have inflicted on himself; everything from cranial pressure to paralysis. Thank God the guards and doctors got to him in time.  
  
Williams had forbidden any visitors but Holden; and banned all phone calls. Luke was desperate to speak to Leo.  
  
 _Can't Williams see he's hurting Leo by keeping us apart?_  
  
Even knowing Leo was safe at the farm, the future looked extremely bleak. If Noah hurt or God forbid managed to kill Marsden, while the two of them were still considered dangerous criminals… then… there'd be no salvation.  
  
Holden tried to contact Chris using the cell phone number Luke gave his father. But to no avail. Luke figured Chris must have ditched the phone after the Feds used it to track them down to the motel room in St Louis.  
  
He felt terribly alone. But he'd begged his father to travel to Washington. He wanted Holden to approach Marsden in the hopes of somehow intercepting Noah. Noah loved and trusted Holden almost as much as he did Luke.  
  
More than anything, Luke was desperate to let Noah know he was still alive. It would change everything.  
  
As a thousand thoughts ran through his troubled mind, Luke's nurse, a sweet African American kid by the name of Sammy, quietly went about his rounds, recording Luke's temperature and setting Luke's medication on a tray beside the patient.  
  
"I'm done now." He smiled at Luke. "Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?"  
  
"Um… thanks Sammy. Could you turn the news on for me?"  
  
"Of course." The young man reached up to press the standby button on the tiny hospital television. He placed the remote on the table beside Luke's pills. "Make sure you take those, you hear me?"  
  
Luke smiled. "Okay."  
  
Sammy left the room as Luke tried to drown his thoughts by watching television.  
  
…  
  
 **Washington DC, Washington, Russell Senate Office Building, 2019**  
  
Senator Marsden concluded, and not for the first time in his career, that news reporters were the bottom-feeders of society.  
  
Hiding information was like trying to hide a body. You tied a concrete slab to it and hoped it would sink to the bottom of the ocean. Most of the time it did. But occasionally a reporter would risk diving into the murky depths to retrieve it.  
  
His chief of staff had been right. And as always, Charles found himself wishing he had listened.  
  
News of FBI Deputy Director Stanley Marsh's murder quickly spread. Instead of overshadowing the implications of Charles' involvement in certain biological weapons manufacturing, it seemed to fan the fire.  
  
Now the press were demanding an on-camera, on-the-record statement from Charles himself.  
  
For the first time, Charles was really feeling the heat. The news story about Snyder was making headlines. It was only a matter a time before somebody in the news world made the connection.  
  
Then Charles could truly wave his life goodbye.  
  
He turned from the window so that makeup could be applied to his face; making him presentable for a television appearance.  
  
"Now, Charles," Oswald was saying. "Remember to smile. Try not to dart your eyes about. It makes you look shifty."  
  
"I am shifty, Os," quipped Marsden, making the makeup lady smile.  
  
"I know that! But we definitely don't want anybody else to catch on!" Oswald regarded Charles, carefully checking the senator's appearance for any flaws. "Just remember, we have enough information on Marsh to prove what an unsavory character he was."  
  
"Shame there's no third party who can attest to seeing Marsh actually break the law."  
  
"It's not that nobody's seen him," Oswald corrected his boss. "It's that they'd never have dared say anything while he was alive. It might be a little easier to locate a witness now."  
  
"Well," Charles replied, "that's at least something, I guess…" Then after a pause. "Do I really need to go out there?"  
  
"Don't moan Charles." Oswald waited until the makeup artist was out of earshot before continuing. "I don't need to remind you that I _did_ warn you about all this. But nooooo! You just _had_ to run off and do your own thing!  
  
"Well, I can't say I'm sad that motherfucker's dead!" Charles snapped.  
  
Oswald shook his head in defeat. "Whatever. But you better put on your best act of denial out there today or you can kiss the White House goodbye!"  
  
…  
  
Noah easily found his way through the nation's capital. He recalled the layout of the streets and traffic circles from when he was 14 and his father was stationed at nearby Fort Mead.  
  
He abandoned the car a block from the Senate Office and jogged the rest of the way. He felt the reassuring weight of the gun hidden under his shirt and the tap of the USB stick against his chest.  
  
There was a thick band of spectators crowding around the front steps of the impressive white Beaux-Arts styled Russell Building; complete with proud American flag patriotically waiving atop the roof.  
  
Noah buffered his way through the throngs of people, much to their indignation. As he reached the vicinity of the press section, he lifted the hood of the sweatshirt Chris gave him to wear; ignoring the stab of pain in his side from the knife wound left by Garrett. Chris had dressed the injury quite well. But the pain was unavoidable.  
  
The press were corralled behind a wire barricade; entry to which was controlled by a narrow barrier flanked by two Capitol Hill police officers. They let only a selected few technicians close enough to set up their microphones on the portable speaker's podium, adorned with a U.S. Senate seal on the front.  
  
Noah heard several reporters mention Marsden's name while taking to their editors back in the newsrooms around the country.  
  
"The senator's bound to mention Marsh's death at the top of his statement," one of them said. "We've been given the five-minute cue. Standing by now."  
  
Noah had heard about Marsh's demise on the car radio. It was a blow to say the least. The deputy director's involvement was a crucial piece of the puzzle. He was more valuable alive than dead to Noah. Now all of Marsh's secrets had died with him.  
  
But he didn't have time to worry about that now. Noah stood hidden by the crowd; carefully surveying the scene, all the while trying to find a way to get in close to Marsden.  
  
Getting past the press wouldn't be too hard. He'd already slipped a press card from the back pocket of a CNN cameramen, too busy setting up his shot to notice the hand slip through the wire.  
  
It was the wall of armed plainclothes security flanking the podium that would prove a problem.  
  
…  
  
Archie and Adrian arrived at the Russell Building just as Senator Marsden was getting ready to go live to the press. Flashing his FBI badge at the various security posts, Adrian got them as far as Marsden's senate office door, before they were told there was absolutely no chance of them seeing the senator.  
  
"Senator Marsden is far too busy this morning, as you well know," a young intern told them.  
  
"I'm not _asking_ to see the senator," Adrian snapped. "I demand it! You find me a minute with Marsden or I'll have you charged with obstructing a Federal investigation."  
  
The intern blinked at Adrian with disdain before sighing. "Fine! He may have a few minutes after the press conference. But I can't guarantee it."  
  
"Thank you. We'll wait," Adrian politely replied.  
  
A loud bustle of activity erupted from inside the senator's office before the doors swung open. Surrounded by an entourage, Marsden walked out, straightening his tie as he reached the reception area. The senator noticed Adrian standing there; and his eyebrows rose in recognition. But he was quickly rushed passed the two law enforcement officers.  
  
Archie and Adrian followed the small parade down the stairs; and out through the main exit doors. The press and photographers went crazy as Marsden approached the bank of microphones.  
  
Adrian scanned the crowd, looking for Noah Mayer. He had an overwhelming feeling in the deepest part of his gut that Mayer was somewhere close, too close for comfort. However, his eyes fell on another familiar face anxiously standing behind the barricades. A worried Holden Snyder was frantically waving his arms trying to get Adrian's attention.  
  
The crowd quieted down as Marsden made his way to the center of the podium. Out of the corner of his eye, the FBI agent saw a loan figure approach from the opposite corner of the makeshift platform.  
  
Archie drew a loud gasp. "Oh shit!"  
  
And the scene was set.  
  
Marsden, eyes wide with shock, froze mid-stride with his arms lifted to the side in a non-threatening stance. Noah faced him, dropping this hood; handgun extended and aimed right for the senator's head.  
  
Caught totally off guard, Senate Security jumped into action and Noah's body was bathed in a sea of tiny red laser dots.  
  
"Hold your fire!" Adrian screamed, taking immediate command. Leaning over toward Archie, he quickly whispered, "Find Holden Snyder. He's somewhere in the crowd. Get him in here now!"  
  
As Archie ran off, Adrian loudly shouted waiving his badge, "Hold your fire… FBI… I repeat… Hold your fire!"  
  
…  
  
 **St Louis, Missouri, Saint Louise University Hospital, 2019**  
  
Luke practically fell from the bed as news cameras caught sight of the gunman. Alarms on the monitors surrounding his bed sung out like a Greek chorus.  
  
Sammy burst through the door, immediately asking Luke to explain what was wrong.  
  
"Noah!" Luke gasped. "Oh no!"


	47. Chapter 47

**Washington DC, Washington, Russell Senate Office, 2019**  
  
Of all the scenarios Charles Marsden had imagined in his mind; all the ways in which this entire affair could go wrong; he never once predicted he'd find himself face to face with Noah Mayer.  
  
He struggled to look Noah in the eye. It was difficult not to watch the finger Noah had poised over the trigger of the government-issued hand gun.  
  
 _Where the hell did he get that from?_  
  
It was funny, but in that moment he was taken back all those years to 'Nam, when Noah's father saved his life. He still remembered the severe bite of crippling pain when he was shot that day.  
  
He never really lost his fear of guns.  
  
Noah stepped closer. "We need to talk."  
  
"Look Noah," Charles began. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but-"  
  
"Relax Charles," Noah easily said. But there was a wild, blank look in his eyes that turned Charles' insides to ice. "I'm just here to turn myself in," Noah explained. "I'm done with it... All of it."  
  
Noah did look tired; the few days worth of stubble giving him a ragged appearance not helped by the dark rings under his steely blue eyes. This was clearly a man on the edge.  
  
Oddly recalling a Shakespearean quote - 'Do not tempt a desperate man', - Marsden fell silent; mouth still half open in the sentence Noah interrupted.  
  
"But first," Noah continued. "I want to make a statement."  
  
That snapped Marsden out of it. "I don't think so," he blustered. "This is neither the time nor the place-"  
  
"Let 'em speak!" someone shouted from the crowd.  
  
"It must have been difficult for you," Noah told Charles, tone dripping sarcasm. "Carrying this secret all these years. Living with what you did…" Noah had to pause as his voice wavered. "To your best friend… Charles!"  
  
"Noah," Charles tried in a fatherly tone. "Whatever terrible thing it is you think I've done, I can assure you that you are mistaken. Now… it's clear you're very upset. I heard what happened… Noah… I'm truly sorry about Lu-"  
  
Noah's forward movement was nothing but a flashing blur. With one quick and unexpected shove, Noah had pushed Charles backward. He fell to the ground with a shocked grunt; a collective gasp rising from the crowd.  
  
"Shut the fuck up!" Noah seethed, hovering over Charles with a blind fury that made him seem enormous. The barrel of the gun pressed deep into Charles' temple. Noah's nostrils flared like a crazed bull. "You.Do.Not.Get.To.Say.His.Name!... Ever!"  
  
A fearful Charles glanced back at Agent Williams, fully expecting the lawman to intervene and save the senator from the criminal. But to his shock, Williams seemed to be enjoying the scene.  
  
"Get up!" Noah boomed; anger making his blue eyes glint.  
  
Charles spat profanities under his breath as he heaved himself back to standing. "Now Noah, think about what you're doing! You're just racking up more charges with each move you make! Everyone here just witnessed that! Williams?"  
  
Adrian frowned. "I'm not exactly sure what it is you think I saw, Senator?"  
  
Some members of the assembled press corp laughed.  
  
For the first time, Noah seemed to realize he had Williams on his side. He locked eyes with the agent for some time. It appeared to embolden him. Speaking clearly he asked, "Does the name Garrett, mean anything to you, Charles?"  
  
Charles let out an audible gasp; beginning to physically feel the cracks in his foundation.  
  
 _No, no, no! I've worked too hard!_  
  
"Come on…" Noah taunted. "Surely you remember your very own bodyguard? The guy has a pretty impressive cobra tattoo round his wrist. It's really hard to forget something like that!"  
  
Charles thickly swallowed and risked a glance at their audience. The reporters stood frozen with interest; microphones extended and cameras recording every second, beaming the pictures live around the world."  
  
"Well, don't worry," Noah continued. "I had a little up close and personal talk with Garrett yesterday. He certainly knows you! In fact, he told me that you guys go _way_ back! He told me about working for you in 2008… you know… when…" Noah waned, "…when Luke and I… when we supposedly did what we did."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Oh that's okay," Noah replied, glancing over at Williams. "Lucky for you, I recorded Garrett's confession." Noah glared at Charles. "If you're looking for him, you'll most likely find him in the safe hands of the Oakdale PD. They should be very busy interviewing him as we speak. Alongside Dr. Christopher Hughes. Surely you must remember Dr. Hughes, Charles?"  
  
Charles felt his demeanor crashing with each word Noah spoke.  
  
 _It's not possible._  
  
"I have copies of my father's research files." Noah continued to drive the nails into the coffin. "All of them!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Noah," Marsden replied, forehead sweating as he continued to defend himself. "But I have _no_ idea where you're headed with all of this."  
  
"Scary, isn't it?" Noah asked. "When you realize that all the evidence is mounting up and… it all points to you…"  
  
"Noah, I-"  
  
"We were 19, Charles! We were fucking-" Noah was slowly falling apart as the exhaustion crippled him. His eyes watered as he pushed on. "We were just kids! Why? Why did you do this? I _adored_ you! My father would have _died_ for you! You stole my chance to fix things with my dad!"  
  
Charles' face twisted in an ugly scowl at his revulsion. His public face, the one he wore for the cameras, dropped as he snorted. "Oh please! Your father would _never_ have accepted what you've become! Never! You disgusted him… as you do me!"  
  
Almost immediately Charles regretted his words. Noah's body stiffened and he pressed forward.  
  
"You think I won't pull this trigger, Charles?" Noah cocked the gun. "Think again! I've lost _everything_! You've taken _everything_ that matters from me! My father, my home, my son and-," Noah clutched at his chest; forcing himself to complete what he had to say. "...worse than anything… Luke!"  
  
…  
  
 **St Louis, Missouri, Saint Louise University Hospital, 2019**  
  
Luke's heart was breaking. He couldn't understand why Williams just stood there without intervening.  
  
"Tell him!" Luke screamed at the television screen, ignoring the pain in his neck. "For God's sake, Williams, tell him!"  
  
"How can I help?" a flustered Sammy asked with concern.  
  
Luke looked at him as though he'd forgotten Sammy was still in the room. "I need to speak to Agent Williams. Please! Can you ask the guards outside to help me phone Agent Williams?"  
  
"Of course," Sammy agreed. "But please, it's not good for you to get this upset. There may still be damage to your heart or your brain... Please, just calm down, okay?"  
  
Luke stared at Sammy as if he had horns growing out of his head. "Calm down?" he screamed. "My husband has a million laser lights aimed at him and you want me to calm down? Look at him!"  
  
As Sammy's kind face fell. Luke felt awful. It was a natural 'Luke' reaction to lash out; and poor Sammy just happened to be the only other person in the room.  
  
Taking a deep breath Luke said, "I'm sorry. I so sorry. It's not your fault. I'm just scared…"  
  
Sammy smiled with understanding. "I'll go talk to the guards."  
  
…  
  
 **Washington DC, Washington, Russell Senate Office Building, 2019**

"So here's my statement," Noah almost whispered. "I, Noah Mayer, being of sound mind and body… or at least I think I am… do hereby declare myself and… my husband… Luke Snyder… innocent of all charges relating to the 2008 murders at the George S. Patton Military base."  
  
The gathered reporters audibly gasped and a wave of whispers passed over the crowd.  
  
"My belief is that Senator Charles Marsden and Deputy Director Stanley Marsh were involved in selling Army secrets to foreign arms manufacturers."  
  
"Lies!" Charles boomed in a last-ditch attempt to save himself. "These are all lies! He's mad, can't you see?"  
  
But Noah ignored him. "These secrets contained information on the manufacture of arms using certain biological agents. It is further my belief that my father, Colonel Winston Mayer, discovered this deception only when he moved to the lab in Oakdale. The good senator, a man I always held in high esteem, a man I knew my whole life, used the estrangement between my father and I to stage an elaborate cover up involving the murder of 7 innocent people that day."  
  
While Noah spoke, Adrian watched with satisfaction as Marsden's shoulders sank, lower and lower. Adrian found himself hoping the son of a bitch was totally suffering.   
  
Even though the entire story as Noah spelled it out, still sounded like some wild speculation; Adrian could tell the press believed him. As crazy as it sounded; too much of it made sense.  
  
"This is a complete fabrication!" Marsden exploded with indignation. But his expression was enough to see how close Noah came to hitting the truth button. He turned back to Adrian. "Why are you just standing there? Arrest him!"  
  
"Well," Adrian replied, lifting his arms to lazily scratch the back of his neck. "Thing is, I've just come from Patton, where I observed a certain bricked up shooting range that seems to corroborate Mr. Mayer's story. Funny that nobody working on the original investigation bothered to substantiate it's existance. I had only to spend five minutes asking around the base before I found a soldier who remembered it being there."  
  
Marsden's mouth gaped open. The assembled photographers were ready. They quickly immortalised the moment in a flash of bulbs.  
  
"Strange... it would seem the two captains who _were_ interviewed at the time, both seem to have died in unfortunate accidents... My God!" Adrian exclaimed, shaking his head at the senator. "What the hell have you done?"  
  
Marsden continued to appear outraged at the accusation. But the fear was starting to show on his face. "I refuse to listen to another word of this rubbish!"  
  
He made a move to march off the stage but was brought up short when Noah bellowed, "Don't you fucking move!"  
  
Marsden glanced back as Noah shouted and the senator's face went ashen.  
  
Adrian was so focused on Marsden; he'd failed to notice the distinct change in Noah's demeanor. Gone were the tears. The soldier was back. And this time, he was intent on completing his mission.  
  
"Noah, don't!" Adrian pleaded. "Before you pull that trigger, security will drop you where you stand! Think about it!"  
  
"I have no reason not to kill him. I won't let him hurt anybody else!"  
  
"What about your son?"  
  
"I can't… He's… Leo will never be safe until this man is gone. I've seen what Charles is capable of…" Noah replied with some struggle. Then with a dead, chilling calm he said. "You'll find all the information you need hanging around my neck."  
  
…  
  
 **St Louis, Missouri, Saint Louis University Hospital, 2019**  
  
Luke was losing his mind. He dialed and redialed the number for Agent Williams' cell. He kept checking the news feed to see whether the agent on screen would respond. But either Luke had the wrong number or the agent's phone was turned off.  
  
Agent Williams didn't appear to be reacting at all. His focus, like that of all those present, was totally taken up by the exchange between Marsden and Noah.  
  
As Noah made his pledge to die, Luke expelled a silent scream through his damaged thorax. In slow motion, he saw his life ending, all while feeling powerless to stop it.  
  
As Noah took aim at his intended target, an authoritative voice broke through the crowd of reporters. "Noah, you put that gun down… now!"  
  
Noah visibly shook at the sound of the voice. And so did Luke, but for different reasons.  
  
"You hear me, Son?"  
  
…  
  
 **Washington DC, Washington, Russell Senate Office Building, 2019**  
  
Noah couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was feeling so cold and alone, so totally lost. He was finished. He'd done what he set out to do and he wanted completion. He couldn't have that without Luke.  
  
But this steady voice that he remembered so well, suddenly popped into his head like a dream. Noah began to question his own sense of hearing, because it was impossible.  
  
"Look at me," the male voice commanded.  
  
Noah was afraid to. This voice, this person, had the power to alter his mission. And Marsden _had_ to die. He _had_ to. For Leo. For Luke.  
  
So he ignored the voice; once again lifting the gun to take aim.  
  
Marsden yelped, placing an arm over his face…  
  
Senate Security prepared to fire.  
  
"Hold!" Agent Williams yelled.  
  
The voice was relentless. What it shouted next took Noah's breath away. "Noah! Luke's alive, Son!"  
  
Noah faltered back a step, sure he'd misheard.  
  
"Noah? Did you hear me? I said Luke is alive!"  
  
Noah shook his head. It was a cruel trick. It had to be. Yet… this was not a voice that would lie to him. Not about this or anything else for that matter.  
  
"Look at me," the voice requested again; this time taking on a softer tone.  
  
It pulled Noah like a magnet. His watery eyes locked with a loving, slightly greyer-blue set. His strength left him in a flood of emotion that kicked him so deep he reeled.  
  
"You can put the gun down now, Son," Holden pledged.  
  
But Noah couldn't, not yet. "I want to talk to him," he insisted, eyes welling. Every bone in his body praying Holden's claim was true. "I want to talk to him right now! God dammit!"  
  
…  
  
 **St Louis, Missouri, Saint Louise University Hospital, 2019**  
  
"Pick up… pick up… pick up…," Luke sang.  
  
He could actually hear his father's phone ringing; and understood why Holden hesitated to answer. But when Noah asked to speak to him, Luke was beyond desperate.   
  
"Come on, Dad!" he yelled. "It's _me_! Surely you must know it's me."  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Luke's gaze whipped back to the screen where Holden stood with the phone to his ear. He grimmaced as the action sent a bolt of pain up his spine.  
  
But Luke sighed in relief, "Dad?"  
  
"I'll put him right on."  
  
Noah was watching Holden with an expression so needy it squeezed at Luke's heart.  
  
The phone was quickly passed through the crowd. Noah's fingers shook as he took the cell from a cautious security guard.  
  
The first thing Luke heard was Noah's trembling breath so he spoke first. "Hey, Bubby."  
  
Every ounce of adrenaline, every bit of strength Noah clung to, seemed to desert him on those two small words. He disintegrated into a ball of sobs that echoed down the crowd.  
  
"I… I couldn't…" Luke heard Noah cry, "…I couldn't feel you anymore…"  
  
Luke wept. "I'm so sorry! They wanted to flush you out! But I'm fine. I swear to you!"  
  
"Luke..." Noah pressed the phone tightly to his ear using both hands; dropping the handgun in the process.  
  
Luke gratefully watched Williams as he picked up the weapon while keeping the Capitol Hill police away from Noah.  
  
Marsden looked on in horror; realization dawning that he'd lost. He tried to furtively make his escape, but was blocked by the girth of Police Chief Blithe.  
  
"Going somewhere, Senator?" the old man asked, with one raised eyebrow.   
  
Both unable to speak, Luke and Noah cried together over the phone. When Luke could locate his voice he said, "You did it! You never gave up! I'm so proud of you! Noah… you actually did it!"  
  
Noah laughed through his tears and Luke joined him.  
  
"Come back to me, Bubby," Luke whispered.  
  
Noah nodded. "Always..."


	48. Chapter 48

**Oakdale, Illinois, Oakdale City Hall and Courthouse Complex, 2019**  
  
Itching to leave, Luke fidgeted in his chair while they waited for the official release procedure to be completed.  
  
After a few weeks of physical therapy, Luke's neck, while still bandaged, was much better. Though occasionally he'd yelp if he turned his head too quickly. The doctors still weren't certain he'd ever regain the neck's full range of motion, but considering what might have happened he counted himself lucky.  
  
"Will you stop pacing!" he moaned.  
  
Noah stopped his incessant back and forth walk in front of the window, eyes scanning the tempting view of Old Towne.   
  
"If I don't pace I'll explode!" he explained.  
  
Luke exhaled a deep, exasperated breath that sent him into a coughing fit.  
  
Noah squatted by his chair, taking his hand. "You okay?"  
  
"Jesus Christ! Will you _stop_ fussing?" Luke exploded.  
  
Ever since they left the hospital, Noah had been on edge like this; driving Luke crazy with his persistent hovering. He knew it was because Noah loved him, but he also suspected it had a lot to do with the events of the past few weeks.  
  
Noah may have succeeded in his mission to free them. But the brunette seemed unable to relax until every other detail was resolved.  
  
Over the weeks since that pivotal scene on the steps in Washington, D.C, Luke watched Noah became more and more withdrawn. Noah wouldn't talk about it, but Luke knew deep in his heart, it had something to do with the information he'd obtained from Garrett, or rather _how_ he'd obtained it.  
  
It didn't help that their current celebrity was off the charts. Every talk show and newspaper in the country was clamoring to interview them. Top lawyers threw business cards in their direction; eager to scoop the most publicized case of the year.  
  
At the look on Noah's face, Luke softened. "I'm sorry, Bubby. I know you're just worried." He leaned forward to steal a quick kiss. "But you don't have to be. I'm fine and in just a few more hours, we'll be done with all of this!"  
  
As he spoke, the door to the small conference room opened and Agent Williams entered, accompanied by FBI Director Lloyd McKean and a small man Luke didn't know.  
  
A few minutes were spent on introductions and they discovered that the small man was the United States Attorney General Marcus Glover.  
  
McKean gestured for Noah to take the chair beside Luke, but Noah remained standing as the other three men sat behind the table opposite them.   
  
"Do you know why we called a meeting this afternoon?" Glover asked; looking externally like a kindly uncle even as his eyes burned with that intense intelligence of a wily fox.  
  
Luke and Noah exchanged a look before Noah spoke up. "No, Sir, we don't."  
  
"Very good," the man said, leaning back in his chair and placing a folder on the table before him. "With this level of media coverage, I'd prefer it if this deal remains strictly within the confines of this office."  
  
The country's highest ranking Lawyer took his time looking each and every person in the room directly in the eye.  
  
"Hang on?" Luke queried. "Deal?"  
  
"You have powerful friends, Mr. Snyder," Director Lloyd McKean said surveying his notes. "A certain Ms. Lucinda Walsh being one of the most outspoken advocates. It would seem your friends are not altogether happy with the way the FBI has treated you over the past few years."  
  
"Knowing my grandmother, Mr. McKean, I'm sure that's an understatement," Luke replied; with the faintest curl of his lips.  
  
"Quite." McKean cleared his throat. "Having said that, I have been forced to come up with rather a generous deal considering…"  
  
"What the Director is so eloquently trying to tell you, Luke," Adrian butted in, "...is that you have the President quaking in his boots. The government is worried you and Noah are going to spill your story to the press or worse…"  
  
"Sue them," Noah finished with a nod.  
  
Luke felt his shackles rising.  
  
Glover glared fire at Williams before turning to the job at hand. "I have here a full pardon and financial compensation for both of you. But it comes with certain stipulations; the first being that you will refrain from speaking of your life in public-"  
  
"This is bullshit!" Luke exclaimed.  
  
"…Second," Glover powered on, "…you will pledge to never pursue a civil or criminal claim against the FBI or the United States Government for any alleged damages-"  
  
" _Alleged_ damages?" Luke exclaimed with outrage. "Do you have any fucking idea what we've been through?"  
  
He felt Noah's hand rest on his shoulder, "Calm down, Baby. Let's not reject this just yet. Let's hear the man out, okay?"  
  
Luke dropped back in the chair in a huff, and Noah nodded at Glover to continue.  
  
The attorney general shifted a few pages around, clearing his throat. "Lastly, you will keep the details of this agreement confidential for the rest of your lifetime."  
  
"Now?" Luke asked, looking up at Noah. "Can I reject it _now_?"  
  
Noah sighed.  
  
Luke blazed fire in Glover's direction. "Why the hell would we accept these conditions? We've already been pardoned!"  
  
"You've been cleared on the original murder charges, Luke," Adrian explained. "But not for any of the other crimes you may have committed while on the run; forgery for example."  
  
 _I don't believe this!_  
  
"You're kidding me right?" Luke asked Adrian. "You want us to give up the chance to tell our story; the chance to obtain recompense for everything this administration put us though, just to avoid some trumped up forgery charges?"  
  
"Luke, you need to think carefully about this one," Williams warned.  
  
"Think about what, exactly?"  
  
Luke heard it then; a deep inhale of breath from Noah.  
  
"What?" Luke asked, glacing up at him. "Bubby, what is it?"  
  
An ashen Noah looked down into Luke's eyes. "The kidnapping."  
  
Luke felt like he'd been kicked in the gut.  
  
 _Of course! Leo! How could I forget?_  
  
Glover used their realization to hammer his objective home. "This is an excellent deal. Trust me. I've seen many over my career. Not only will you be exonerated for any crime you committed while on the run, whether we know about it or not, you will receive full and legal custody of your son."  
  
With just one long look at each other, Luke and Noah really didn't have anything more to say. Glover slid the agreement over to Luke's side of the table. Luke gestured for a pen; and after a thorough read through, both he and Noah signed their names on the dotted lines.  
  
Glover and the FBI Director simultaneously rose up, having completed the deal. With one last apology and shake of their hands, the two men left the room, leaving Williams alone with them.  
  
After a brief and uncomfortable silence Noah was the first to speak. "What will happen to Marsden?"  
  
"Do you care?" Williams asked.  
  
Noah shrugged. "Not really, I guess."  
  
"Thanks to you, the government has an airtight case against the soon-to-be former senator. I'd suspect his lawyers will try to get some kind of plea bargain. In any case, Marsden can look forward to spending the rest of his life behind bars, where he should have been all along. Then they can start to track down all the people he paid to stay quiet over the years; of which there are many..."  
  
"I don't really know what to say." Noah reached over the table to shake Adrian's hand. "Thank you."  
  
Adrian appeared to have a lump in his throat because he simply cleared it and nodded.  
  
Luke was surprised when he actually felt tears sting his eyes. "You believed us when nobody else would-"  
  
"Only after you both kicked my ass!" Adrian chuckled.  
  
Luke and Noah both laughed at that.  
  
"Yeah," Luke agreed, "...and what an arrogant ass it is too!"  
  
"Nice though." Noah winked. "I've seen it!"  
  
Luke gave Noah a confused look, as the brunette and Adrian shared a grin; before another awkward moment hung in the air, no one knowing quite what to say next.  
  
Finally, Noah broke the silence. "Um… Holden and his cousin, Detective Jack Snyder, are waiting to take us home. Evidently, the family's laid on this massive barbecue in our honor. Would you like to join us?"  
  
"Throw in an extra invite for my buddy, Archie, and you've got yourself a couple of tag-a-longs!" Adrian grinned.  
  
...  
  
Leo sat alone on the bench outside the farmhouse back door; anxiously keeping an eye on the driveway at the exact point it appeared through a gap in the trees and drew a scribbled climb up to the house.  
  
Luke's big brother, Aaron, had been up since the crack of dawn preparing a spit roast for Emma's special family barbecue. But even the enticing smell of well-seasoned roast meat wafting up to Leo from the bottom of the yard, couldn't distract him from watching the road.  
  
Occasionally, his eyes would pan right to the flat strip of grass, where most of the Snyder clan enjoyed a fun game of baseball. They were watched from the sidelines by the Hughes family, Chris, Katie and little Jacob Snyder.  
  
The Snyder family was complicated to say the least. Leo had yet to work out everybody's exact ties but he was getting better at it.  
  
He watched his cousin Sage deliver an impressive hit way out into left field, sending Ethan and Sage's brothers, Parker and JJ, sprinting after it through the long grass.  
  
This made it easy for Eva, Cousin Eliza and Aunt Carly, who had loaded the bases, to slide into home.  
  
Sage simply smiled; licking her finger and pressing it to her behind with a loud sizzle sound, before strolling carefree from base to base, past the boys to claim her grand slam.  
  
Natalie and Faith stood waiting to bat and burst out laughing singing, "Girls rule!"  
  
"Oh yeah?" Faith's husband, Ian, challenged from his position at second base. "Wait 'til we're up!"  
  
Occasionally, the players (especially Ethan) would hopefully gaze in Leo's direction and Leo felt a little bad about that. He knew they'd set this game up especially in his honor.  
  
A couple of drinking glasses tinkled behind him. Turning toward the sound, he watched Grandma Emma set a tray of iced tea on the long picnic table. She decanted some of the golden liquid in a glass and brought this, along with a paper plate full of cookies to Leo.  
  
"Don't want to play, Sweetheart?" She kindly asked, handing him the snack.  
  
Leo balanced the drink on the leg of the bench and placed the plate on his knees. "I'm sorry, Grandma. I can't concentrate."  
  
It still felt strange to call this woman Grandma; but Emma insisted. She didn't seem fazed by it at all. In fact, the moment he said the word, her wrinkled eyes sparkled.  
  
"It's understandable," she declared, lightly patting his shoulder before taking a seat beside him. "But it might still be quite a wait, you know? The ball game will help keep your mind off things and before you know it..." she flicked her fingers, "…the wait is up!"  
  
He nodded while absently taking a bite of cookie; his eyes automatically seeking out that spot in the trees.  
  
"Ohf…myf…Ghod!" he exclaimed, biscuit laden fingers flying up to stop cookie crumbs from propelling out his lips. "Mmmm! So good!"  
  
Emma chuckled beside him. "I'm glad you approve, although I'm not surprised. Those were always your father's favorites. I swear, as fast as I made them Noah would gobble them up!"  
  
Licking the cookie dust from his bottom lip Leo asked, "These are the oatmeal raisin ones?"  
  
"Yes!" She smiled, her cheeks turning rosy.  
  
Leo nodded, "Dad told me about these! Whenever we would move to a new place, Dad would search the shops for something similar. But he never found any that measured up to yours."  
  
"Well, now, I'm flattered!" Emma laughed. "I've made plenty, so you help yourself!"  
  
"Thank you, I will, for sure!" Leo grinned, already reaching for a second.  
  
His fingers brushed the cookie when he heard it.  
  
"They're here!"  
  
He followed the sound of the voice to find Eva had stopped the game and was excitedly pointing down the long driveway.  
  
He stood; the forgotten cookies falling to the ground. Feeling nervous, his eyes scanned the horizon until they fell on Holden's sky-blue pickup just as it cleared the gap of trees.  
  
He walked forward with a stride that turned quicker and longer, until he was running down the grass bank.  
  
The truck slowed before it even had a chance to reach the house; both doors on the right side flung open. Luke was first out; already quarter-way to Leo, when Noah stepped out of the back.  
  
Now Leo could believe it! Now he could relax! All his fears of foster homes and loneliness dissipated in an instant. Vision blurring; heart swelling with happiness; Leo nearly fell once, but he regained his footing and powered forward.  
  
As soon as they reached each other, Luke swept Leo up into his arms laughing and crying at the same time. "Hey!"  
  
Leo hugged Luke as hard as he could.  
  
"Oh, Baby…" Luke gasped into Leo's hair.  
  
"Hey," Leo replied; enjoying the feel of his pop's strong arms around him and the wet kisses on his neck.  
  
Over his pop's shoulder he watched his dad approach. When Luke released him, Leo rubbed his bleary eyes and sniffed; straightening up. "Hi, Dad," he softly said.  
  
Noah looked at Leo with a powerful mix of emotion. "Hey, Kid," his dad replied, shy tears he'd usually hide if the situation were different, glistening on his cheek.  
  
"Is it over?" Leo cautiously asked.  
  
Both men stood regarding Leo for quite some time before Noah reached up to cup Leo's face. His hand slid around the back of his son's head, nodding yes as he pulled Leo to him.  
  
As Leo's face buried in his father's shirt, he felt Luke embrace them both. He'd always loved the way his fathers' smelled; manly and strong. But now they smelt free too. It was the safest smell in the world.  
  
…  
  
Finding the farm's driveway blocked by the stationary pickup ahead of them, Adrian patiently pulled the rental car up behind Holden Snyder. As the rest of the Snyders made their way down the grass bank, he and Archie silently witnessed the tearful reunion of a family unit, torn apart by injustice.  
  
Adrian's whole life; his entire belief system; had always been wound up around his duty to serve. It was an act that lay within, unquestioned, until he met Luke Snyder and Noah Mayer. This case had taken everything he ever believed in; and threatened to unravel it all.  
  
One thing was for sure, Adrian never wanted to discover he was chasing down the wrong person again.  
  
"Well," Archie mused, as Luke swallowed his mother's small frame in a tight hug. "...if scenes like this aren't why I joined the force, then I don't know my reasons..."  
  
"Yeah," Adrian agreed. "I came close to losing compete faith in justice with this one, Archie. It's good to see right can still win true, eventually."  
  
They shared a silent thought for a moment.  
  
"So," Archie queried. "You sticking with the feds?"  
  
"Who knows what the future holds, my friend. Who knows…"


	49. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick Note: Chapter 48 was supposed to be the final chapter in this story. However, my amazing Beta at the time, Sue, suggested I write a short epilogue. Somehow short ended up long... but really what I'm getting at is... this chapter exists thanks to Sue and is therefore dedicated to her.... 

**Oakdale, Illinois, 2026**  
  
"Uncle Casey, come on!" Barefoot and pajama-clad, Leo Snyder banged again on the bathroom door with his fists. "This isn't funny anymore!" He waited a heartbeat, but was greeted with more annoying humming, so he knocked harder. "Uncle Casey!"  
  
He spotted Luke in his periphery, as the blonde headed across the landing.  
  
"Pop!" he pleaded. "Please! Speak to him!"  
  
Hiding a grin, while trying his best to look sympathetic, Luke approached and lightly tapped on the door. "Come on, Case! You're giving the kid heart failure out here…"  
  
"I'm busy," Casey replied through the door, without a care in the world. "Wait your turn."  
  
"Pop!" Leo exploded. He was one step away from stamping his foot, just like he used to do as a child.  
  
 _God, he's not a child anymore._  
  
Luke swallowed the small lump that thought evoked; and stated, "Casey, there are a lot of guys that still need to shower. You're holding up the works and we're gonna end up late…"  
  
The door opened a gap. Casey Hughes stood before them with damp blonde hair, wearing nothing but a towel. He had a mouth full of froth and brandished a toothbrush at them.  
  
"Impossible, my friend," he spat.  
  
Both Luke and Leo jumped back to avoid being sprayed by paste.  
  
"What is?" Luke asked.  
  
"…to be late." Casey continued to nonchalantly brush his teeth.  
  
Luke knew Casey well enough to know the man was enjoying every minute of this.  
  
 _Big tease!_  
  
But Leo wasn't seeing the humor in it at all. "Uncle Casey! The wedding is at 3. What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
Casey held up one hand, turned to the sink, and spat before readdressing them. "So long as _you_ are here with me _I_ can't be late," he reasoned with a grin. "They can't have a wedding without the groom, now can they?"  
  
Luke pursed his lips to hold back from laughing at Casey's logic.  
  
Leo's hands found his hips; his face like thunder. "You expect me to be late to my own wedding?"  
  
Casey winked and quickly shut the door on them. Leo hauled himself at it; banging like mad.  
  
"Pop!" Leo groaned. "Do something, will ya?"  
  
Luke put two reassuring hands on Leo's shoulders, massaging gently. "Leo, relax, okay? Everything will be just perfect… You'll see."  
  
"But-"  
  
Luke put a finger to his son's lips. "Shush! As your best-man, Ethan will be up soon to help you dress. There is still plenty of time. Uncle Casey is just messing with your head!"  
  
"I need to shower, Pop!" Leo wined. "I need to keep busy or I'll go crazy!"  
  
Luke could relate. He remembered how he'd felt the day he officially married Noah; intense butterflies making him sick with anticipation. And that was with the added benefit of already having lived like a married couple for years beforehand.  
  
When young Hallie Munson first moved in with her grandparents, so she could attend Oakdale University; little did they expect that their son, Mr. Love-Is-For-Girls himself, would fall head-over-heels for the cute red-head.  
  
Now, after a whirlwind romance, Leo and Hallie were stepping out on their own; their lives were about to change forever.  
  
"I don't know if you've noticed, Son. But your pop is looking rather debonair right now." Luke stood back so his son could admire the navy blue suit he wore; complete with decorative cummerbund. Luke was told by the bride it contained the cherry-red that tied her wedding theme together.  
  
Leo looked sheepish at not noticing. "Sorry, Pop. You look great."  
  
Luke's eyebrow raised, "Just great?"  
  
Finally, he got a smile out of Leo. "You look amazing, Pop."  
  
"And you know what this means, right?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"En-suite is free. You know your dad. He's been ready for more than an hour."  
  
Luke chuckled as Leo squeezed him in a hug, before shooting past to use the second bathroom. Shaking his head, he made his way downstairs, only to be caught up short by the sight of Noah standing on the second landing, staring out of the window.  
  
In the yard below, Ethan could be seen practicing his best-man speech on Holden. It had been Ethan's idea for all the men in the main wedding party to spend the night together; and Casey had volunteered to play host. Even though he had to promise his wife, Alison, they wouldn't drink too much and end up trashing her house.  
  
It _had_ been a squeeze, to say the least. The house wasn't very big. But with help from a few blowup mattresses, they'd made it work.  
  
Luke wasn't sure why Alison was so worried. The evening was a very sober affair of male bonding and reflection.  
  
Wearing a matching suit, Noah sensed Luke's approach and grinned brightly at him, open admiration clear on his face.  
  
Luke's heart usually fluttered at the sight of Noah. But the sight of Noah in a suit always turned that flutter into a full-throttled pounding.   
  
"Good morning Mr. Snyder. You, waiting for me?" Luke asked him, slowly approaching.  
  
"Always," Noah sighed in almost a whisper, pulling Luke closer by his suit's neatly folded lapel.  
  
His hands smoothed down the jacket, coming to rest flat on Luke's chest. He leaned in slowly, teasing Luke for a moment by holding his lips just inches from connection. Finally, he depressed their mouths together in a kiss a little more fervent than was perhaps appropriate at that moment.  
  
But Luke didn't care. He pressed his body closer to Noah's, sliding his hands through the man's dark hair; willingly parting his lips for Noah and groaning as his body began it's inevitable response.  
  
After several gorgeous minutes, they finally came up for air.  
  
"Whoa!" Luke gasped. "Keep that up and we'll end up missing our son's wedding!"  
  
Noah smiled, but his eyes were glassy.  
  
Still wrapped snuggly in Noah's arms, Luke reached up to smooth one of Noah's dark eyebrows. "What's going on, Bubby?"  
  
Noah frowned. "Are you sure this is okay?"  
  
Luke chortled and pulled the man into a hug. " _This_ is _more_ than okay!"  
  
Chuckling, Noah pushed Luke back to look him in the eye. "Come on, Luke! You know what I mean…"  
  
Luke kissed him softly. "Yes. I know."  
  
"It's just… they're so young. Should we be allowing this?"  
  
"Bubby, he's 19! We can hardly interfere with his decisions anymore. All we can do is be there for him."  
  
Noah sighed.  
  
"Hey," Luke smiled, giving Noah a small shove with his body. "They love each other. That's pretty clear, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Noah agreed.  
  
"Leo's hardly the type to go into something lightly. You know how thoughtful he is, in everything he does. And besides, with Leo taking over the horse breeding business from Dad, they won't struggle financially. And there's plenty of family in Oakdale to give them all the love and support in the world."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Hell, getting married at 19 surely trumps getting arrested!"  
  
Noah laughed. "That's for sure!"  
  
"And _we_ turned out okay, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"So…," Luke cocked his head. "…feeling better?"  
  
"Actually, it's not really me you need to worry about," Noah replied.  
  
"Ha?" Luke quirked an eyebrow at him.  
  
Noah smiled and pulled Luke gently by the hand down the remainder of the stairs and into the sitting room, where the third father-in-law-to-be, Will Munson, was in the process of wearing down a path in Casey and Alison's patterned carpet.  
  
"How did this happen?" he asked as soon as he caught sight of Luke and Noah in the doorway. He threw his arms in the air. "One minute she's brushing the hair on her Barbie doll and the next... I'm supposed to walk her down the freaking aisle?"  
  
"You're right," Luke agreed. "Time sure has flown."  
  
"Well I'm not ready!" Will declared, running fingers through his short-cropped hair.  
  
Not for the first time, Luke marveled at how little Will had changed from their days together in high school. Will was one of the first friends Luke ever admitted being gay too; cementing a close relationship that lasted till this day. Will and his wife, Gwen, and their youngest daughter, Cary, had traveled to Oakdale from Chicago especially for the wedding.  
  
"Hallie might think she's ready," Will continued, "…but I'm certainly not!"  
  
Luke grinned. "Like I was just telling Noah; it's their decision to make, Will. They'll figure it all out."  
  
"I wish I had your faith!" Will groaned.  
  
"Leo will look after her," Noah gently reassured him. "And so will we... You know that, right?"  
  
Rubbing the back of his head Will smiled. "Yeah, I know. At least that's one thing I _can_ be certain of."  
  
They were interrupted when Luke's cell phone rang. He quickly popped it out of his pocket. It was a call he'd been waiting all morning for. "Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Luke?" said the voice on the other end. "It's Adrian."  
  
"Tell me it's good news!" Luke rushed.  
  
"We did it!" It was easy to hear the excitement in the private investigator's voice. "Cleared… on all charges!"  
  
Luke punched the air. "Yes!"  
  
"What?" Noah asked. "What is it?"  
  
"Adrian, can you hold on a minute?" Luke asked, holding one hand to Noah's chest.  
  
"Actually no, I've gotta run, court is still in session. I snuck out because I thought you'd want to know right away."  
  
"Definitely!" Luke exclaimed. "Thank you! I'll see you later at the wedding?"  
  
"As soon as court's adjourned, I'll be on the first flight out of Chicago! Wouldn't miss it!"  
  
Luke said his quick goodbye and hung up, beaming at his husband. "Guy Emmerson… Adrian says the jury cleared him!"  
  
"Oh my God, Luke!" Noah exclaimed; arms open wide for Luke to fall into. "That's brilliant!"  
  
"Guy Emmerson?" Will curiously asked.  
  
…  
  
In 1984, a 20-year-old prostitute, Faye Child, was found stabbed more than 20 times in an apartment near the Chicago docks. The investigation became high profile when details of the case were broadcast on television, appealing for information. With this, the police found themselves under intense public and political pressure to solve the case.  
  
Finally, in November 1985, Guy Emmerson was arrested and eventually taken to trail, despite a lack of evidence linking him to the crime.  
  
His trial was one of the longest in US legal history. But Emmerson was, eventually, found guilty and sentenced to life in 1997.  
  
Serious questions were raised from the beginning about the strength of the convictions; which were based almost solely on various character references. These hailed both from professionals, who interviewed Guy; and from several of Guy's neighbors, who described Guy as "strange", "creepy"; and "a bit of a hermit".  
  
Questions were also raised about the way a confession was taken from Guy not long after his arrest. Short of physical abuse, it was hard for Luke to conceive of a more hostile and intimidating approach by police officers to a suspect.  
  
However, despite the speculation regarding the validity of the conviction, nothing was done to help Guy's situation, until Luke's team of highly skilled lawyers and private investigators received Guy's heartfelt appeal for assistance.  
  
At Adrian's request, and thanks to the advancements in criminal science, police were finally able to build up a genetic profile of the killer using strips of Faye's dress. After Guy provided a DNA sample, it didn't take long to prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that he was innocent.  
  
Additionally, the DNA profile matched that of a known criminal already serving a stretch for multiple rape and physical assault.  
  
…  
  
"Congratulations, Luke," Will commended, after Luke told him the story. "I have to say, it's pretty incredible what you guys have done for people. What's this, your seventh overturned conviction?"  
  
"Ninth!" Luke corrected, swaying in his husband's arms.  
  
"When the government first paid us the compensation," Noah explained. "...we just didn't feel right using it on ourselves. It would have been like legitimizing what happened, ya know?"  
  
Will nodded.  
  
"So, while we were finishing collage, the money just sat untouched in the bank, gaining interest. In the meantime, Luke and I received countless letters from strangers. Some were simply letters of support. But so many were from people who felt they'd been wrongly convicted. Then, one night, Luke had the idea of setting up an organization to help other people who are in the same situation we were."  
  
"And The Guiltless Foundation was born!" Will smiled.  
  
"You wouldn't believe the amount of injustice in the U.S. legal system," Luke told Will.  
  
"Still gives me chills," Will admitted. "…whenever I think about what you guys went through."  
  
Luke and Noah shared a long stare that ended in a soft smile. After the foundation's third success, they couldn't have been more surprised when ex-FBI-Agent Adrian Williams turned up at their doorstep, asking whether he could offer his assistance.  
  
They instantly gave him a job as their lead investigator; a roll he took on with complete dedication.  
  
"All worked out." Noah simply stated. "Eventually, you have to let the anger go and move on. At least we were able to make sure some good come out of it all."  
  
…  
  
By some unspoken agreement they all found themselves in the kitchen, where Will opened the fridge to remove a carton of milk; while Luke searched the cupboards for cereal and bowls.  
  
"Katie tells me you've done an amazing job at WOAK," Will was saying to Noah. "I saw your documentary on road deaths. Pretty incredible stuff! Are you ever gonna try making that movie you're always talking about?"  
  
Noah laughed. "Well, I always used to say I was waiting for the kids to fly the coop first. Guess, after today, I have one less to worry about."  
  
Just as Noah said this, their youngest son sleepily slunk through the kitchen door; mousy-blonde hair all mussed up.  
  
"Hungry," Darby yawned; dropping on the nearest stool, pulling his father's cereal bowl closer.  
  
"Oh! Help yourself, Scamp," Noah joked and ruffled the top of Darby's head. " _You're_ not planning on leaving us any time soon, are you, Kiddo?"  
  
"Na-a!" their son assured them through a mouthful of cereal and his signature dimpled smile. "I still have…," he visibly used his fingers to count under his breath. "…twelve whole years… I counted…"  
  
Luke hugged Darby from behind making the 5-year-old squirm and glow with embarrassment. "You can stay with us forever if you want."  
  
Darby was growing to look more and more like Luke with each passing year; much to Noah's delight. His unusual name stemmed from their desire for it to befit their situation. Irish for "born into freedom", it seemed right.   
  
Noah would forever be grateful to the two kind women who helped make the dream of having a second child a reality. One of these was a stranger, who donated her egg. The second; the lovely Angelina, a surrogate mother who they paid to carry the baby to term.  
  
Having come so close to losing his husband on more than one occasion, it was important to Noah that this baby be genetically Luke's.  
  
"Pop!" Darby complained; still wrapped up in his father's arms. "I'm too big for cuddles."  
  
That only resulted in Luke hugging the boy even tighter. "You'll never be too old, Baby."  
  
The child squealed with delight as the doorbell sounded and they heard Ethan shout, "I'll get it!"  
  
Before any of them could blink, the whirlwind that was Luke's baby sister whooshed into the kitchen with three large grocery bags in each hand.  
  
"You're not supposed to be here," Ethan was complaining as he followed along behind her.  
  
"I've come to make sure Leo gets a decent wedding breakfast," 16-Year-old Eva stated, dumping the bags on the kitchen counter and lifting up a bowel of soggy cornflakes with disgust. "Just as I thought!"  
  
As she shooed the men out of her way, she quickly piled up her crazy curls with two bobby pins, before nosily searching the cupboards for pots and pans.  
  
"How did you get here anyway?" Luke asked her.  
  
"By bike… duh!" She replied, slipping on an apron.  
  
As Holden entered the now crowded kitchen, his cell rang. He checked the display, smiling. "Hi Lily… Yes, she's here… I know… I'll tell her…"  
  
Eva rolled her eyes and Noah chuckled, comfortably leaning against the kitchen counter, watching yet another Snyder scene of chaos unfold.  
  
"Oh, Lily," Holden said, "it just wouldn't be Eva if she didn't look a little scruffy and wasn't fussing over everybody… okay, okay… I'll tell her!" Holden pulled the phone from his ear, covering the mouthpiece as he addressed his youngest. "Your mom says you disappeared before she could comb your hair."  
  
Eva shrugged. "She can comb it until the cows come home, won't make any difference!"  
  
"Did you hear that?" Holden asked Lily with a chuckle; before promising to lift Eva back to the farm as soon as she was finished cooking. According to Lily she still needed to change into her bridesmaid dress and be made to look presentable.  
  
"I need space, people!" Eva declared. "Everybody out… out!"  
  
"Can I stay and help?" Darby begged.  
  
"Yes… but just you!"  
  
"How you boys holdin' up?" Holden asked, as they made their way back to the sitting room.  
  
"Barely," Noah joked.  
  
"Just," Luke agreed.  
  
"Marginally," Will added.  
  
Holden chortled and placed a hand on Luke and Noah's backs. "You can all be proud. They've grown into a fine young people with good heads. Honestly, you have nothing to worry about."  
  
"We know," Luke agreed. "Plus, we couldn't have asked for a sweeter daughter-in-law. Hallie's practically family already!"  
  
…  
  
The wedding ceremony and reception took place on the farm. It was a simple, unpretentious affair that somehow managed to maintain elegance, despite the rustic setting.  
  
Under hundreds of homemade jam-jar lanterns, hanging from the branches of every tree, the bride and groom got through their vows without a hitch. They hung on each other's words and lost themselves in a gaze so penetrating, the minister had to call their names a few times before he could continue the proceedings.  
  
Noah felt sure he couldn't feel more pride for his son even if he tried. At times during the ceremony he fisted his chest; overpowering feeling bubbling inside; almost unbearable.  
  
His eyes stung as they watched Leo take this furtive step into manhood. Even though it felt like a step away from him and Luke, it also felt right. It was a part of the greater circle of life.  
  
During the reception, long after the speeches, the cake and the first dance, Noah scanned the guests looking for his husband. They'd become separated as they made their rounds and politely thanked people for coming.  
  
By now, the reception had been going for hours and showed no signs of slowing down. Although some of the older guests, Lucinda and Emma for example, had long since turned in for the night.  
  
He crossed the make-shift dance floor, set outside under the stars on this balmy evening. Most people were in the full swing of the music, gyrating and generally enjoying themselves. He smiled when he caught a glimpse of the bride and groom, slow dancing, despite the hectic beat.  
  
He passed Lily on the way. She stood under one of Emma's apple trees, enjoying a glass of wine and conversation with Dorothy Gordon-Brown. Noah flashed them both a proud grin; and they happily waved back.  
  
Whenever Noah saw Dorothy, he was reminded of that day when Leo was sixteen; and announced he'd located his maternal grandmother. At the time, both Luke and Noah weren't sure what to make of it. They'd both simply assumed Lucy May's family must have abandoned her once they discovered her pregnancy.  
  
As it turned out, Lucy May ran away from home with a man three times her senior, whom she'd met online. Dorothy, an only parent, didn't hear anything from or about her daughter until the Amber Alert went out about Leo's kidnapping. She'd tried to contact Lucy then, but her daughter was so far gone with her addiction, she rejected her mother's offers of help.  
  
As a result, Dorothy was more than delighted when Leo showed up on her doorstep, asking for contact. Now she'd become so much a part of their family, Noah couldn't remember life without her in it.  
  
As he mused this over he reached his destination. He held up his empty glass to JJ, acting as one of their volunteer barmen for the evening.  
  
"Beer?" JJ asked; sliding a can over to Noah after he nodded.  
  
"I shouldn't, but I'm already drunk, so what the heck!" Noah laughed. He turned to lean against the bar; studying the people, shaking his head with a chuckle.  
  
 _God! Leo's married!_  
  
Feeling happy and more than a little tipsy, he sipped on his beer, finally catching sight of Luke.  
  
The blonde sat with Chris and Katie, Natalie, Faith and Eva, at one of the long bench tables. He was relaxed and chatted amicability amongst them. Darby lay asleep across the bench with his head on Luke's lap. While he spoke, Luke gently teased the boy's hair.  
  
Noah admired how incredible Luke looked in his white dress-shirt; positively sophisticated. Luke noticed him and flashed a grin, all white teeth and dimples. He wiggled his finger in a "come hither" motion.  
  
"Why did you let me drink so much?" Noah moaned on his approach, collapsing beside Luke on the bench and lying one cheek on Luke's warm shoulder.  
  
The onlookers all openly laughed at him.  
  
"Cuz, you're so adorable when you're drunk," Luke replied smoothly, beaming wide and tickling Noah's chin with his thumb.  
  
Noah made a face and shifted closer.  
  
"God, but you guys are something!" Katie exclaimed. "You really turned your lives around after that whole Marsden fiasco."  
  
Chris nudged her with his elbow.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"Hardly the subject to bring up at the moment," Chris chastised.  
  
"Hey!" Katie protested. "I'm a journalist. Inappropriate conversation is what we do..."  
  
"Chris is right!" Natalie agreed, jumping to her feet. "Today is for happy thoughts only. Besides, Noah owes me a spin across the dance floor."  
  
Noah weakly shook his head and mumbled, "No spinning… please… no spinning!"  
  
Luke chortled and rubbed at Noah's chin.   
  
"Awe!" Eva exclaimed. "You're _so_ right, Luke! He really _is_ adorable drunk!"  
  
"Ha… freaking… ha…" Noah replied as they all burst into laughter.  
  
A slow song came on and Luke gently shifted Darby from his lap, using his jacket to create a pillow for the boy. He wrapped his arm around Noah's waist. "Surely you won't deny your husband one last dance for the night?"  
  
Looking up into those brown eyes, Noah knew he could deny Luke nothing. He pushed himself up to standing; and held out a sloppy hand, dragging Luke onto the dance floor to the delight of those around the table.  
  
After everything Luke had done, seen and sacrificed, he deserved to be as happy as Noah could make him. And maybe, somewhere deep down, Noah could finally admit that, perhaps, he deserved to be happy too.  
  
Luke pressed a soft cheek to Noah's and said, "She's right, you know?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Katie?" Luke clarified. "We have come a long way."  
  
"Yes." Noah pulled Luke closer. Somehow his hands managed to slip under Luke's shirt and find contact with the warm skin beneath. "Do you remember when we decided to stay in Oakdale?"  
  
Luke's body vibrated as he laughed. "How could I forget? We deliberated for weeks!"  
  
"It was the right decision though."  
  
Luke contently sighed into Noah's neck, placing a quick kiss just below his Adam's apple. "Yes. Yes it was."  
  
As they slowly nudged their feet; sharing the floor with Leo and Hallie, Holden and Lilly, Chris and Katie, Casey and Alison, and Will and Gwen; Noah felt yet another surge of pure happiness. "...out of the doubt that fills my mind... hmm... I somehow find... you and I collide... mmm... mmm..."   
  
"Bubby," Luke asked over Noah's right shoulder. "…are you... singing?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
Noah didn't answer. He just leaned back to look Luke in the eyes and kept going, swaying with the song. "...I'm quiet you know... you make a first impression... I found I'm scared to know... I'm always on your mind... mmm"  
  
Luke grimaced. "With that voice, I forget why I ever agreed to marry you…"  
  
Noah pressed his forehead to Luke's, laughter rumbling through him. "You married me because I'm the hottest guy," he hiccuped and stupidly grinned, "in all of history."  
  
Luke smiled and nodded his agreement. "Ah yes. Now I remember…"

[ ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yk9G7OyKwLM)


	50. Bonus - Deleted Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: This scene didn't really fit anywhere within the body of the story. But I decided to include it as an aside.
> 
> Please do leave a comment. I'm curious whether you are reading this for the first time or whether it's a re-read.

**Metropolitan Correctional Center, Chicago, Illinois, 2021**  
  
He miserably stared up at the web-like cracks in the grey ceiling tiles. Only 5 days in the clink had already confirmed what he always knew to be true - he was not a man made for prison.  
  
Harvard educated, he was made for far grander pursuits than counting hours.  
  
But he'd allowed things to run away with him; so close to achieving his goal.  
  
He clenched his teeth as the lunch bell rang; too shrill and obtrusive. Its echo doubled as the sound laced down the concrete corridors.  
  
He heard the other cell doors open; the excited chatter of the prison inmates as they made their way to the canteen.  
  
"Move swiftly ladies! No lingering in the hallways!" a guard shouted.  
  
He jolted as the lock on his cell clicked and the door opened.  
  
"You too, Princess!" the guard demanded. "Time you came out to meet the neighbors!"  
  
From the day he arrived, Charles Marsden refused to leave his cell. He was terrified. He had enemies. Many of them had good reason to hate him; none more so than the Grimaldi's and their supporters. Any one of them would love to take advantage of his exposure. There was nothing and nobody to protect him in here.  
  
He sighed and sat up on his bed; sliding his feet into the white prison-issued trainers. No laces, obviously. He didn't bother to complain about the guard's request. He was smart enough to know his reprieve was over.  
  
_Time to face the music._  
  
As he emerged, the inmates passing his cell paused to get a good look at him. They all knew who he was, of course. Some whistling and teasing ensued, as he followed the crowd to lunch. He couldn't help but notice the soft evidence of Chinese whispers; as his presence was quickly messaged through the population.  
  
The crowd thickened as it reached the main entrance to the canteen. He could feel hot breath on the back of his neck as men pushed up against him; jostling for position. He kept his head bowed; hoping to avoid any eye contact.  
  
The canteen was bigger and brighter than he expected; painted blue and white. Metal tables with attached chairs ran the length and breadth of the space. Arriving prisoners formed a long line that snaked around the outskirts of the room until it reached the food-bar; where busy kitchen staff slopped food onto outstretched trays.  
  
Conscious of the eyes watching him, he blinked against the sudden brightness and joined the end of the queue. The others continued to cackle and crack jokes; some even shouted to get his attention. But he kept his eyes on the head of the person in front of him.  
  
He'd started the fear-drenched shivering long before he reached the canteen. He swallowed hard.  
  
With a tray laden with a kind of food he'd never have even feed his dogs, Charles found an empty table and sat with his back to the whole canteen.  
  
_Is this it? The rest of my life… like this?_  
  
The thought sent a chill down the back of his neck and, to his surprise, teardrops formed on his lids. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. He hardly ever had… even as a child.  
  
_It wasn't supposed to end up this way… I could have achieved great things!_  
  
A tray banged down onto the table opposite him, shocking him. It was followed by a tall figure who regarded him with a coldness that stopped his breath.  
  
"This seat taken?" The man's southern accent held nothing but pure contempt and mockery.  
  
Nervous, Charles shook his head.  
  
A sinister smile spread like poison; sliding slowly across the weathered face before him. One hand reached over the table to take a handful of rice from Charles' tray.  
  
"Name's Main," the man said, eating the rice directly out of his hand.  
  
When Charles didn't reply, the prisoner banged a fist on the table making Charles jump and spill the water from the metal cups provided with the meal.  
  
"It is usually customary to respond with one's own name!" Main yelled. "Is it not?"  
  
"You already know my name." Charles tried to sound confident; but his voice squeaked on the end of the sentence  
  
A look of evil triumph crossed Main's dark eyes. "I hear you'll be needing a cell-mate soon." Charles' head shot up and he shuddered as Main licked his lips. "Just so happens I've put in a request for transfer. My former mate had a little accident…" Main indicated his head to one direction.  
  
When Charles found the object of Main's discussion he wished he hadn't looked. The shaking sniveling pile of what used to be a person; hunched like an old man over his food tray; left Charles with nothing but a sick premonition.  
  
He slowly turned his attention back to Main, who ignored him. Main simply sat there eating his food as though he'd said nothing.  
  
Suddenly the years stretching ahead of Charles seemed very long indeed.


End file.
